


As Summer Comes; As Summer Goes

by beccadearie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccadearie/pseuds/beccadearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrown together for the summer on the seashore, Arthur and Merlin are fast friends, but soon discover that there’s always more than meets the eye, about the island, themselves, and each other. But time flies when you’re having fun and the weather is changing. Autumn is coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Summer Comes; As Summer Goes

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my full set of author notes [here](http://beccadearie.livejournal.com/4175.html) at my LJ. Feel free to make comments here or there.
> 
> Nane0 made me some gorgeous fanart and you can see all of it in one place [here](http://nane0.livejournal.com/2804.html).
> 
> The Old English: _Eorðbígenga árisan, forþtíaþ drýlác æt se eard. Drýlác hálian, edníwe._ translates to: Dwellers of the Earth, arise. Bring forth magic to the earth. Heal, magic, make it new.

Merlin looked around the small room, dismayed with everything. "Bollocks," he swore under his breath and hefted a bulky red duffel bag onto the bed. The rickety metal frame creaked more than he was comfortable with, but it managed to hold. Which was lucky for Merlin, especially since the duffel probably weighed more than he did. **  
  
** Scowling, he wandered over to the dirty window, resting a knee on the window seat to rub a clean patch through the grit that came from several skipped months of cleaning. **  
  
** At least the view that greeted him through the window wasn't that horrible. Steel grey waves crashed along the white sand beach, everything tinged with the doom and gloom of an afternoon shower. He swore again.

 

 

  


  


 

**  
  
** "Language," came the voice of Hunith, Merlin's mother, who was wandering past his open door with a basketful of linens. He made a face at her. "It will be better when the sun comes out, you'll see," she said sympathetically, setting down the basket and tossing him a ball of sheets. "Make your bed up like a good boy, okay?" **  
  
** He groaned, but dragged himself to the bed. The whole room was done up in whites and light greens, everything lined with a film of dust. The covers were definitely not hospital corners when he was done, but it was comfy enough for him to sit down and bury his head in his hands. This was not how he was supposed to be spending his last summer before A levels. On a crummy island off the coast of Spain named after the Little Mermaid, no thank you. **  
  
** Yes, the brochure hadn’t been boasting when it said white sand beaches with sand dunes and rolling meadows leading up into a mountain with waterfalls that were perfect for hiking. But that didn’t mean that Merlin wanted to be there. La Sirenita. More like Purgatory.  **  
  
** Rubbing his face with his hands, he caught a glimpse of himself in the heavy, brass edged mirror sitting across from his bed. Gangly and unshaven, with messy black hair and tired looking blue eyes, jeans just a little too short (again!). He groaned and unconsciously reached for his cell phone to text Gwen. However, his pocket was empty, and he moaned as he remembered that it was going to stay that way until August. **  
  
** "The bill would be way too expensive and cell service is spotty on the island anyway," Hunith's voice came back to him and he flopped backwards onto the bed and covered his face with a pillow. "It's like the stone ages," he mumbled into the fabric and screwed up his eyes, trying to block out everything around him. If he pretended hard enough, maybe when he opened his eyes he wouldn't be in a rundown cottage on a little island in the middle of nowhere. He would be in his own room, and able to go on his laptop, and the smell of the fabric softener would fill his nose instead of the musty cedar smell coming off of the pillowcase. **  
  
** He tossed the pillow away from him and sneezed three times in rapid succession, just in time for Hunith to walk past with a "Bless you!" and "If you're not going to unpack your stuff, come help me in the kitchen." **  
  
** Merlin replaced the pillow and after a minute of staring at his duffel bag, he clunked down the stairs to help his mother. He was trying **** _ really _ **** hard not to act like too much of a sullen teenager lately. **  
  
** The island actually wasn't that bad. The white beach held promises that the grey skies refused to deliver. Just beyond the edges of the beach were a series of cliffs jutting out into the ocean. The little island may be in the middle of nowhere, but it seemed peaceful enough- especially since it only had a vague handful of 'businesses' that accounted for the town’s existence while the rest of the island was filled with vacation homes. **  
  
** However, the vacation home that the Emrys's were staying at wasn't nearly as nice as the ones surrounding it. The paint was chipping a little and everything creaked, but other than that, Merlin's main complaint was the size of his room. And the lack of Internet. But mostly the lack of Internet. **  
  
** The kitchen was a surprisingly open and airy space, the floor currently littered with boxes of canned goods and supplies, enough to last them for a good five years, Merlin supposed. However, no matter how small the rest of the house was, the pantry was huge, and soon everything was hidden away on its own little shelf, with all the perishables put in the fridge. **  
  
** Merlin leaned against the wall, bored, as he watched his mother rearrange the last thing on the refrigerator shelf. She shut the door firmly and made a face at him. **  
  
** "Go outside and do something with your bad mood. You're stinking up the kitchen." Merlin's lower lip jutted out, even though he was trying his hardest not to pout. "There's a car in front of the neighbor's house. Go say hi, introduce yourself, offer to carry some boxes. Your foul temper is ruining the serenity of my kitchen." Hunith took few calming, cleansing breaths and shoved him out the door. **  
  
** Merlin scuffed his dirty trainers against the wooden porch but then collapsed on the ancient porch swing instead. Surprisingly, it didn't even creak, the chain holding him firm as he used his toe to swing back and forth. **  
  
** Chewing at a fingernail, he surveyed the house next door. Compared to the Emrys's cottage, it was more of a mansion. There were swooping gables, a turret or two, and the bright cheery yellow paint was intact and definitely not peeling. With the red shingle roof on top, it almost looked comical, but Merlin bit at a cuticle instead of laughing. **  
  
** There was indeed a car in the driveway, however. A four by four jeep sat with the boot open, a person's arse clearly sticking out from the car, clearly unloading something. Merlin raised his eyebrows at the arse. It was a nicely shaped arse, clad in blue jeans, and attached to the front, holy mother of God. Attached to the front was one of the most gorgeous blokes Merlin had ever been graced with the pleasure of viewing. His golden hair shined even in the watery sunlight, muscles standing out from forearms as he hefted a box out of the car and set it on the ground. **** _ Nice jawline _ , Merlin noted. Above the magnificent jawline was a slightly sour look on the blond's face and just above, glaring eyes that were turned towards Merlin. **  
  
** He waved a bit awkwardly, lurching to his feet to wander over to the car. "Hi." He had to stop and clear his throat as the stranger stared at him with growing interest. "I'm Merlin. Me and my parents are staying next door for the summer." He felt as if he was being x-rayed as the stranger looked him up and down. **  
  
** "Arthur," he said finally, turning to sit on the lip of the boot of the car and holding out a hand for Merlin to shake. Merlin nodded and took his hand. It was dry and firm underneath Merlin's palm and he may have held on just a little more than should have been prudent before the tension seemed to snap between them and they both abruptly pulled away. **  
  
**_ Well that was weird. _ **** Arthur had his head tilted to the side, curious. "I'll be staying here for the summer too." Arthur's tone was friendlier, less forbidding. **  
  
** Merlin grinned in relief and jammed his hands in his pocket. There was a slightly awkward silence as they considered each other before Arthur broke the silence. **  
  
** "Are you in your last year of school?" He was wearing a loose black t shirt, Merlin noted, but his jeans compensated for that. **  
  
** Merlin nodded. "My A levels this year and then I'm off to uni. What about you?" **  
  
** "Same. My parents decided to have one last family vacation before all the madness started." Arthur rolled his eyes. "This wasn't exactly what I was expecting." **  
  
** Merlin grimaced. "This wasn't how I was planning to spend my summer," he admitted. **  
  
** "How did you plan on spending your summer?" Arthur asked curiously, resting his chin on his hand. **  
  
** "Working probably," Merlin shrugged. "I would like the pocket money for uni. But no, Dad got a new job, a promotion, plus a huge bonus, so here we are! Being a family and all that shite." Merlin shook his head ruefully. "They're planning to do a lot of nature stuff that I'm not cut out for, so I've resigned myself to a summer full of sunburns and sand in my pants from spending too much time at the beach." **  
  
** Arthur patted the space next to him and Merlin hopped up to sit on the car boot with him. "We used to come here when I was a kid," Arthur said conversationally. "Couldn't come for a couple  years for some reason or another," he grimaced, "but the parents decided we needed 'family bonding,' mostly meaning Mum will suntan at the country club, Father will spend all his time in the office, and occasionally we'll sit down to a dinner together." The casual way that he said this, made Merlin's heart twist. With them sitting close enough for their legs to almost touch, angled slightly towards one another, Merlin could see that Arthur wasn't as perfect as he seemed. A bit of acne here and there, crooked teeth, but, oh. Gorgeous blue eyes. **  
  
** "Maybe we can hang out sometime then," Merlin said cautiously. "Go to the beach, check out the nightlife, wander some of the trails. You know. To keep our families from driving us mad." **  
  
** Arthur chuckled. "Although that sounds like a good idea, the likelihood of finding a nightlife in this town is close to nil. Usually it's frequented by young couples with babies and pensioners." He grimaced. "There's a bar I've heard of called Caerlon that's almost the only drinking establishment on the island." He rolled his eyes. "It's absolutely filled with pensioners. Last time I went the youngest person there was the bartender and he looked about 30." **  
  
** Merlin blanched. "What are we supposed to **** _ do _ **** all summer?" **  
  
** Arthur shrugged. "When I was little I would just run around on the beach all day and tire myself out. Sometimes we made a campfire and toasted sandwiches for dinner. I had a friend named Leon who followed me around a lot." **  
  
** Merlin raised and lowered one shoulder. "We'll figure something out I guess. By the way, do you speak Spanish?" **  
  
** Arthur coloured. "I haven't been on the island for a while," he mumbled and shrugged. The official language of the Canary Islands was Spanish, which Merlin had spent three years studying in school. **  
  
** Merlin laughed at Arthur's face and nudged him in the ribs. "It's okay. You take me out to the bars and I'll order **** _ las cervezas _ ." **  
  
** Arthur did not look happy. Obviously he wasn't used to being the helpless one. "I know how to ask for a beer," he muttered, but his next words were cut off by a sharp, **  
  
** "Arthur!" coming from inside the house. Merlin turned to see a petite blonde woman poking her head out the door of the house. "I thought I told you I needed the kitchen boxes." **  
  
** "Right away Mother," Arthur called back but she frowned. **  
  
** "Now." She turned on her heel and disappeared into the house. Arthur rolled his eyes. **  
  
** "Everything always has to be done her way," he grumbled as he hopped off the car. "Wanna help?" **  
  
** Merlin sprang to his feet. "Sure," he said, but soon regretted it as Arthur shoved a box in his arms heavy enough to make him stagger. "What's in here?" he gasped, starting to wobble up the walk. **  
  
** "The fine china," Arthur retorted. "So don't drop it." Merlin felt the sharp corner of a box poke him in the back. "Move, peasant, we don't have all day." **  
  
** Merlin slowed down a bit, just to annoy him, as his legs held the weight of the box. "Prat," he mumbled under his breath. **  
  
** "Just a bit," Merlin heard Arthur laugh as they passed into the cool foyer, a sharp contrast to the building heat outside. Arthur directed him through a hallway to the dining room, where he gently set down his box on the long table, trying not to stare. **  
  
** Arthur's house was very well furnished with dark wooden furniture that looked heavy and antique. Merlin could see into the living room from the dining room and noted slightly hysterically that the throw pillows matched the curtains. And his cottage didn't even have matching couches... **  
  
** Arthur elbowed him in the back and they retrieved the last of the boxes. **  
  
** "You have a really nice house," Merlin gasped as he set down the last box, which must have contained bricks from the way it felt. "Like, really. Seriously." **  
  
** Arthur shrugged, a bit self conscious, and pushed his fringe off his forehead. "Still doesn't have AC like the rest of the bloody island. Kitchen's this way if you want something cold." Merlin followed him into a kitchen decorated in chrome and white, where Arthur poured him a lemonade from a practically walk in refrigerator. **  
  
** Merlin held the glass to his forehead before taking a sip. "It's good. Did you make it?" **  
  
** Arthur turned pink. "Housekeeper," he muttered. **  
  
** Merlin coughed on his mouthful of liquid and managed to keep from spitting it out on the shiny tile floor, that when he thought about it, probably cost more than all the furniture in his cottage. **  
  
** Arthur set his empty glass in the sink and rubbed his hands together. "Want a tour?" he asked a little uncertainly. "You'll probably be able to meet the parents then too. Dunno where mum went." **  
  
** Merlin followed after Arthur through room after room. The house was bigger than it looked on the outside and was old. Very old. Built back in the 1800s, Arthur told him. **  
  
** "Any secret passageways?" Merlin half joked. **  
  
** Arthur lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "I never found any when I was a kid," he admitted. "There's just a hidden room in the study that Dad uses as a closet. It's not really a secret anymore." Merlin felt his eyes widen a little bit. "Dad says I need to go wandering around with a cigar one day." **  
  
** "That would be kind of awesome," Merlin said, and Arthur nodded and ushered him into the next room. **  
  
** Arthur's room was much bigger than Merlin's and didn't have a creaky bed. Arthur's view of the ocean was just as nice as Merlin's but he lacked the window seat. But what really interested Merlin wasn't the view, but the flat screen TV and the many gaming systems against the opposite wall. **  
  
** Arthur saw him eyeing it and grinned. "Got anywhere you need to be?" **  
  
** Merlin shook his head and plopped down on the rug in front of the TV, where he and Arthur got lost in Call of Duty. **  
  
** \--- **  
  
** At first they played on the same team and then apart; Arthur really wasn't paying attention, preferring to let Merlin pick the next campaign and doing miserably as he kept sneaking glances over at Merlin out of the corner of his eyes. Merlin's face was screwed up in concentration, his blue eyes intent, hands gripping the controller hard. Merlin, Arthur thought and bit back a grin as he thought of the irony. Maybe Merlin just wasn't that well acquainted with the Arthurian legend, or else he came from a very strange part of England that had even stranger names. **  
  
** Arthur tried to get swept up in the game like Merlin was, his tongue poking out a bit between his teeth, a small curl of hair brushing the nape of his neck, shoulders moving slightly as he maneuvered around the game. A bony shoulder knocked into his own, jolting him out of his thoughts and into the present. **  
  
** "Huh?" He tried to focus on the TV screen. **  
  
** "Are you even paying attention or are you just dying?" Arthur glanced over at Merlin, but his eyes were intent on his character. **  
  
** "Dying," Arthur confessed as his character got shot. Again. "Sorry, I'm not actually that into Call of Duty. More of a football lad myself." He set down the controller and rubbed at his thumbs. "I think I'll just watch this next one." **  
  
** Merlin shrugged and loaded up a new game. Arthur leaned back on his arms to watch, more interested in watching Merlin concentrate than anything else. **  
  
**_ Oh _ . He hadn't known what to expect when his parents told him that they were coming to the island again. It had been such a long time since their last stay, since Arthur was putting sand in his own swimming trunks, actually. He vaguely remembered running around with a curly headed boy, laughing and shouting and pushing each other into the salt spray. Usually his parents only wanted to come for a long weekend, to enjoy the beach and the heat and then to return to their cool town house in London, where Arthur could call his friends up for a footie match and lay around being lazy all day. But **** _ Merlin _ . Merlin might make the summer worthwhile. Arthur was curious over the strange boy he'd glimpsed next door, but scoffed at his mother when she suggested he go 'make friends.' And if he ever got bored, well. Merlin wasn't exactly horrible on the eyes. Merlin fascinated him, all angles and long limbs. Baggy jeans and a t-shirt that was just a little bit too short. **  
  
** He poked him in the knee with his toe, just to make sure he wouldn't disappear as a summer mirage in Arthur's imagination. **  
  
** "Quit it," Merlin scowled, and something blew up on screen. Arthur poked him again, this time to see if he could get Merlin's brow to wrinkle like that again. **  
  
** Merlin knocked his knee back against Arthur's foot and something blew up on the screen again. Words appeared and Merlin tossed the controller aside. "You're really annoying, you know that?" **  
  
** Arthur grinned. It was almost too easy to bother Merlin. "Was it a good death?" **  
  
** Merlin rolled his eyes and settled back into the same position as Arthur. "Oh god, I've fallen in with a prat haven't I?" **  
  
** Arthur shrugged. "Happens," he agreed. "On the other hand, I've fallen in with a massive video game geek. You're probably a boffin too, aren't you?" **  
  
** Merlin ignored his question. "A dumb jock," he murmured to himself and nodded. **  
  
** "Hey!" Arthur cried out, indignant, and lifted off an elbow to knock one of Merlin's arms out. Yelping, Merlin collapsed to the floor with an **** _ oof! _ **** glaring at Arthur and rubbing his head. "I get good marks," Arthur insisted, looming over Merlin just a little bit. **  
  
** Merlin held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, okay. I believe you. Not all footie players have rocks for brains, yes I know." **  
  
** Rolling his eyes, Arthur moved back so Merlin could sit up again, cross legged this time. **  
  
** " _ Shit _ ," Merlin swore suddenly, catching sight of the sky through the window. It was still light outside, but the sun was beginning its descent. "What time is it?" **  
  
** Arthur twisted around and squinted at the cool green numbers of his alarm clock. "Six fifteen. Somewhere to be?" **  
  
** Merlin shrugged and scrambled to his feet, almost tripping and falling before catching himself on Arthur's shoulder. "Mum never set a time for dinner," he explained. He shifted from foot to foot nervously as Arthur stood up also. **  
  
** "You should probably go then," Arthur commented mildly after a silent moment. Merlin made a sideways motion of his head, half agreeing as he looked out the window. **  
  
** "What time do you have dinner?" Merlin asked him. **  
  
** Now it was Arthur's turn to shrug. "Whenever Dad gets hungry. The housekeeper usually cooks us something and then leaves it in the fridge to warm up." He ducked his head to avoid the pitying look that he was sure Merlin was shooting him. "Let's go **** _ Mer _ lin," he grabbed his shoulder and propelled him towards the door. "You're too skinny already." **  
  
** It was probably just the hurrying down the stairs that made Merlin's cheeks flush slightly, Arthur decided as he practically pushed Merlin down the hallway to the staircase. **  
  
** Merlin was slower than a turtle putting on his shoes, however, so Arthur got the chance to impulsively ask, "Hey, why don't you come over after dinner and we'll go check out the night life in the town? Or lack thereof." **  
  
** Merlin smiled at him from under his eyelashes, looking up as he toed on his shoes. "That sounds great," he said quietly, ducking his head down again, the curl at the back of his neck teasing Arthur. **  
  
** "Later Merlin," he said, opening the heavy door for Merlin to walk through before closing it just a little too forcefully to lean against the back. It took one bang of his head against the oak door and several steadying breaths before he could wander into the kitchen to inspect the contents of the refrigerator. Wrinkling his nose at the lasagna casserole, he pulled himself out a can of Coke. This was going to be a long summer. He could just feel it. **  
  
** \--- **  
  
** Merlin jogged back over to his house, this time not worrying about trampling over the Pendragons' grass. His mum had opened the door for him, with just the screen door blocking out the bugs. **  
  
** "Sorry," he panted as he came into the kitchen. Hunith was busy doing something with the stove. **  
  
** "Where have you been all afternoon?" her voice was muffled slightly. **  
  
** "Next door," he explained and, deciding he was thirsty, started opening cupboard doors looking for the glasses. "You told me to go make friends, remember?" **  
  
** "Glasses are in the third cupboard to your left, dear," Hunith told him distractedly. Merlin located the correct cupboard and filled himself a glass from the faucet. "While you're at it, why don't you fill up the ice cube trays?" **  
  
** Trying not to roll his eyes- his water was only lukewarm- Merlin watched the water fill each individual plastic cup until Hunith's voice cut through his thoughts. **  
  
** "So did you make any?" **  
  
** Merlin blinked at her. "Hmm?" **  
  
** "Friends, Merlin. I know it's vacation, but you still have to use your brain sometimes," her teasing was light as she stirred something fragrant in a sauce pot. **  
  
** "Oh," he tried not to blush. "Yeah. Arthur. He'll be here for the entire summer too. Apparently his family owns the place next door but haven't been here in a while. Also says that the islands are mostly full of pensioners and couples with babies. So it's going to be an interesting summer." He made a face at her and carefully put away the ice trays. **  
  
** "You can always come with me and your father," she made a face back at him. "There's supposed to be some great waterfalls and absolutely beautiful rock formations on the other side-" **  
  
** "Thanks, mum," Merlin hastily cut her off. "But I'll take my chances of dying from boredom here rather than hiking through the uncharted wilderness." **  
  
** She fixed him with a look, before turning back to the stove. "Go find your father and tell him dinner is in ten minutes. He was organizing the study last I heard of him." **  
  
** Merlin played with his fork at dinner more than he ate the “perfectly healthy, balanced, and made from organic ingredients” dinner that Hunith placed before him. Actually, it wasn't that bad, but- Merlin was just lost in thought. **  
  
** His father, Balinor, finally was fed up with Merlin's lack of paying attention and started grilling him about his day. **  
  
** "Met the neighbor boy, carried some boxes, played some video games," Merlin intoned and tried another nibble. Okay it was almost good. But Merlin still didn't recognize what was on the end of his fork. **  
  
** Hunith frowned at him. "I guess it was useless leaving your Xbox at home, wasn't it?" **  
  
** Merlin shrugged. "By the way, Arthur invited me over later to go explore the town. He just said after dinner though, so I dunno when. May I be excused?" He half pushed himself back from the table, expectant. **  
  
** Hunith eyed his plate. "Eat the rest of your food first. Arthur is probably having dinner right now anyway." **  
  
** The food on Merlin's plate didn't last long after that. Sometimes his mother could cook both healthy and good food, Merlin decided, but refrained from licking his fork a second time. **  
  
** "Good?" he asked, already starting to gather his cutlery and plate up. **  
  
** Hunith rolled her eyes. "Change your shirt before you go over there. That one has a hole in the sleeve." **  
  
** He twisted to inspect his shirt as he dumped his dishes in the sink and hurried upstairs. She was right, but it was pretty small. Still, if Arthur meant to go out and see the city, then maybe Merlin should dress a little nicer. His jeans were fine he decided, and pulled on a polo shirt without holes in it. He reapplied deodorant and ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to decide if it was worth the effort and coming to the conclusion that it really wasn't. **  
  
** Clattering down the stairs, he tossed out a, "Bye Mum! Bye Dad!" before slamming the front door behind him. **  
  
** It was starting to get chilly outside now that the sun was beginning to set, and Merlin shivered as he scuffed a toe of his Converse sneakers against the concrete of the front porch. Leery of pressing the doorbell, he reached up to bang the doorknocker that was in the shape of a dragon's head. **  
  
** It wasn't as loud as Merlin thought it would be and he shifted from foot to foot as he waited, wondering if he should just man up and press the doorbell. His hand was reaching out just when the door swung open and Arthur stood there grinning at him. **  
  
** "C'mon," he said, stepping out and pulling the door shut behind him. He was wearing a button up and khaki trousers, which made Merlin feel better about his polo shirt. "Dad recommended a pub for us to try. But there's not very many pubs on the island anyway, so, we'll see. What took you so long?" **  
  
** Merlin rolled his eyes and followed Arthur into the street. "My god you're a prat. Some of us actually sit down and have dinner with our families and said families don't let us go until we've made actual conversation." **  
  
** "Whatever," Arthur said dismissively and pushed at his shoulder to make him walk faster. "Okay, the pub is supposed to be called Caerlon's." **  
  
** Caerlon's wasn't very impressive. It was small and filled with adults. Like, old adults. Merlin was sure that the bartender was at least 35 and he was the youngest person in the room. The lukewarm beer that Arthur had gotten for the both of them was bitter and heavy on Merlin's tongue as he watched the tackily dressed men and women move around the room. Some people were trying to merengue in the corner to the weak music piping over the bar. It wasn't a very pleasant sight. **  
  
** "This blows," Merlin muttered under his breath, taking another pull from his beer and trying not to grimace. He only half succeeded. They were leaning against the bar facing the room, getting a full view of the early crowd of adults. **  
  
** Arthur scowled. "Shut up Merlin." He took a sip of his own beer, as if it was nothing, but Merlin could see his jaw tightening as he swallowed. **  
  
** "Not so good, is it?" he grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes. **  
  
** "Could be better," he admitted. **  
  
** Merlin set his beer back on the bar and turned to catch the eye of the bartender. " _ Una Cuba Libre, por favor _ ," he gestured and soon he had a rum and coke sitting in front of him with a twist of lime on the edge of the cup. He took a sip. Sweeter than the beer, with just the sharp taste of alcohol underneath. "Thanks for the beer though." **  
  
** Arthur eyed his drink. "I don't suppose you could get me one of those?" It really wasn't a question. **  
  
** Merlin raised his eyebrows as he took another sip. " _ Cuba Libre _ . You can try it yourself." **  
  
** He smirked as Arthur gritted his teeth and beckoned the bartender over. Arthur's accent was horrible. **  
  
** Merlin grinned at the scowl on Arthur's face as he received his drink. "You'll have to pay me if you want me to be your personal translator, sorry." **  
  
** Arthur took a sip and they resumed their positions of surveying the bar. **  
  
** "I think this is as lively as this place is going to get," Merlin commented and Arthur grudgingly nodded. **  
  
** "Got any place better to go?" **  
  
** "Not particularly." The taste of the rum on Merlin's tongue got smoother the more he drank. Arthur sighed and turned around to climb onto a swivel stool and Merlin followed suit. **  
  
** "What are your plans for tomorrow?" Arthur broke through the comfortable silence. **  
  
** Merlin shrugged. "Mum and Dad wanted to check out the beach. Wanna come and save me from incessant historical talk?" **  
  
** Arthur eyed him incredulously. "Are you inviting me to hang out with your Mummy and Daddy all day?" **  
  
** Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Got anything better to do?" **  
  
** Arthur frowned at his drink. "No," he admitted. **  
  
** "Well then." **  
  
** Soon after their second drinks, Merlin and Arthur wandered around town for a bit. They found another bar and some sort of disco club on one side of town, but decided that they really didn't need to check those out, seeing what they had at Caerlon. The town square had a small playground and Merlin claimed a swing and sat while Arthur just looked at him. **  
  
** "You're kind of a child, you know that?" Merlin glared at him, and pumped his legs to get himself moving. **  
  
** "I'm eighteen. According to the law I'm officially an adult," he called, matter of fact, enjoying the night breeze rushing past his ears and the swooping feeling in his stomach as he went higher. Letting his legs go slack at the peak of his arc, he went limp and let the swing's momentum push and pull him, back and forth, until he slowed down enough to open his eyes and see that Arthur had sat down gingerly on the swing next to him. **  
  
** "Are you from London?" he asked Arthur off-handedly, letting his toes drag in the dirt, slowing him down enough to see Arthur's face. **  
  
** Arthur nodded, hesitant. "Why?" **  
  
** Merlin shrugged. "You look uneasy about being in such a small town." **  
  
** Arthur rolled his eyes, a movement that Merlin was starting to realize was just his personality. "And where do you come from then?" **  
  
** "Oi, I don't like your tone. London's not the best place." Merlin planted his feet and pulled to a sudden stop. "I'm from Birmingham . A little village right on the outskirts, actually. My dad works at a university there. Small towns are kind of my thing." **  
  
** Arthur snorted. "I might have guessed," he said, but his tone was lighter, more teasing. **  
  
** "Hey!" Merlin pushed him on the shoulder, making his swing lurch to the side. "Ealdor's a perfectly good village. It has perfectly good people. It's just, er, a little small. And of course, there's some stupid people, but. It's really not that bad." Merlin studied his shoes. **  
  
** "I believe you," Arthur's voice was soft. Merlin chanced a look at him through his eyelashes. He was watching the sky, his head tilted back revealing a strong neck gilded by moonlight. Merlin looked down and swallowed. **  
  
** "In London," Arthur sounded far away. "In London, there's so many people. So much **** _ life _ . But you can't see the stars at night. You don't see nature moving around you." **  
  
** Merlin's incredulous silence drew Arthur's gaze. "What?" he said uncomfortably. **  
  
** "Did you just say something deep?" Merlin had a slightly awed, mostly mocking tone to his voice. **  
  
** Arthur pushed him, causing him to lurch sideways. "Shut up Merlin." **  
  
** They decided to turn in after that, not wanting to spend more Euros getting drunk when they had the beach to go to in the morning. "We have all summer for that, after all," Arthur said loftily. Merlin could only hope, as they walked across their respective lawns, that he had found a friend by the end of the day. **  
  
** \--- **  
  
** Merlin woke to the bright sunshine streaming directly into his eyes. He glanced at his watch and groaned. It was early- too early. The gauzy, filmy curtains might flutter delicately in the breeze, but they were shit for blocking out the morning sun. Merlin pulled the pillow over his head and vehemently wished for blackout curtains. Thick ones. Also a less squeaky bed. **  
  
** He was just starting to doze off again when he heard the rapping of knuckles on his door. **  
  
** "Get up Merlin," called his mother. "There's a very nice young man who says he's a friend of yours in the kitchen eating jam and toast while you're still sleeping." Merlin gasped and while trying to kick the covers off of himself, almost fell out of bed. "We're leaving for the beach in twenty minutes. Get up!" **  
  
** Heaving a sigh, Merlin flopped back in bed before shoving the covers off. This was going to be a long summer. Especially if Arthur was a morning person. **  
  
** Merlin was shuffling down the stairs after fifteen minutes, still yawning into his palm. Arthur was leaning against his kitchen counter dressed in striped swimming trunks and a t shirt, casually eating toast. **  
  
** "Good morning Sleeping Beauty," he mocked. "Ready to face the day?" **  
  
** Merlin flipped him the two finger salute before shoving two pieces of bread in the toaster. He needed at least an hour to fully wake before he could talk in coherent sentences. "Whadya doin’ in my kitchen?" he mumbled while hunting for the strawberry jam. **  
  
** Arthur frowned at him. "You didn't specify a time, so I was prepared ahead of time. I saw that your mum was awake and came over to introduce myself." **  
  
** "You're kind of a creeper," Merlin slurred at him, and, finding the jam, settled down on his elbows to watch the toaster cook his toast. **  
  
** "It's not going to cook faster like that." **  
  
** "S'not gonna cook slower neither!" Merlin shot back. Merlin could practically hear Arthur rolling his eyes. **  
  
** "Nice trunks." Merlin could just hear the smirk in his voice. They were old, okay? There would be no other reason to have Spongebob swimming trunks. And his mum bought them for him. A long time ago. Yeah. **  
  
** "Fuck off," Merlin mumbled and buried his face in his arms. **  
  
** "Merlin!" Hunith's voice was sharp and came from somewhere in the house. How she heard him was a mystery to Merlin. **  
  
** "Sorry," he said grudgingly. "Kindly take your presence and your comments elsewhere." **  
  
** He peeked up at Arthur through his lashes. Arthur was surveying the kitchen and trying not to let a grin steal across his face. **  
  
** The toast popped up, scaring the crap out of Merlin. **  
  
** \--- **  
  
** Somewhere in the deep recesses of Arthur's brain, where his conscious lived, he felt slightly bad for teasing Merlin all the time. But it was just so much **** _ fun _ . **  
  
** Sometimes Merlin would blush and look down, a rosy tinge tinting his cheeks. But most of the time, Merlin would just glare at him, eyes flashing fierce. Arthur admired him for this and quite wanted to smooth away the frown that wrinkled Merlin's forehead. He vowed to get this expression onto Merlin's face as often as possible. **  
  
** Merlin was glaring at him now, as Arthur was tossing around his bottle of sunscreen. **  
  
** "What is this, SPF 4000?" **  
  
** Merlin scowled and rubbed in a spot on his shoulder. "I have extremely pale skin. Now give it back before I turn into a crisp." **  
  
** With a flick of his wrist, Arthur flipped the bottle towards him and to his surprise, Merlin caught it. He whacked a blob of sunscreen out of the bottom and and resumed smearing it over his skin. **  
  
** "Are you sure you don't need any?" **  
  
** Arthur rolled his eyes and lazily pulled off his t shirt, resisting the instinctive urge to flex something. "Some of us have helpful skin tones, **** _ Mer _ lin." **  
  
** Merlin just scowled at him and slapped on another handful of sunscreen. **  
  
** Arthur chuckled and leaned back on his elbows on his towel. He and Merlin had set their towels a short distance away from Merlin's mum and dad- but still close enough for easy access to the cooler full of drinks and snacks that Hunith had packed. **  
  
** "Come on," Arthur egged Merlin on, sitting up to poke Merlin in the arm. "Time to go swimming." **  
  
** Reaching over, Merlin smeared a blob of sunscreen all down Arthur's right arm. "Augh!" he cried. **  
  
** "Oh look, you have something to rub in too," Merlin replied smugly. **  
  
** Arthur scowled. "My tan won't be even!" Arthur had time to shoot him a murderous glare before Merlin burst out laughing. **  
  
** "Not funny," he growled. "Now give me some more." Merlin handed over the bottle and Arthur reluctantly applied sunscreen to the other arm and his shoulders too. **  
  
** "Done?" Merlin asked, finally having rubbed all the white spots in. **  
  
** "Yes," Arthur sighed, and snapped the bottle closed. **  
  
** "Well then." Merlin paused dramatically. "Last one to the ocean is a clotpole dollophead!" And then he clambered up and took off. **  
  
** For all his clumsiness, Merlin had longer legs, and was thus faster than Arthur's football prowess, beating him into the surf, foam welling around his ankles. Arthur grunted and put on a burst of speed. Merlin managed to catch sight of him and yelped, taking two crashing steps further out before Arthur tackled him into the next wave by his knees. **  
  
** Merlin came up sputtering and blinking seawater out of his eyes, glaring at Arthur. "Prat," he muttered and dug a finger in his ears. "I got sand in my ears." **  
  
** Arthur sat down on the sandy bottom with the water up to his chest and let the waves pull and drag at him. Merlin plopped down next to him, their knees bumping occasionally when the surf dragged at them. "Ow, sand burn," he whined and rubbed at a red mark on his back. **  
  
** Arthur rolled his eyes. "We can go farther in if you want. The current's not too strong here. You can swim right?" He flicked his eyes over to Merlin who was studying something in the distance and squinting into the sun. **  
  
** "I'll have you know I was a Junior Beaver in my swim class," Merlin retorted, finally turning away from the horizon and facing Arthur. Arthur raised an eyebrow. **  
  
** "I have no idea what that means," he stated mildly. **  
  
** Merlin rolled his eyes, but Arthur could see his ears turning pink. "Yes I can swim," he said shortly. **  
  
** "Awesome!" Arthur staggered to his feet and dragged Merlin up with him. "Have you ever tried body-surfing?" They spent the rest of the morning ducking under waves and attempting to catch them right at their crest, letting the waves carry them as far as they would go- until they lost the wave or it dashed them against the sand, either one. Most of this time was spent sputtering and having arguments about the quality of the next wave (because Arthur really didn't know how to body-surf either) and who was taking the next wave. **  
  
** They ended up taking the same wave multiple times out of sheer stubbornness, ultimately bumping into each other and losing their momentum. **  
  
** By the time Hunith called them back to their towels for the lunch of sandwiches that she had packed, Arthur was tired, had sand burn in very interesting places, and more sand in his swimsuit than he'd like to admit. **  
  
** After feeding them turkey sandwiches, crisps, and Pepsi, Hunith made them put on more sunscreen and then shooed them off on a walk. **  
  
** "Have to wait an hour," she reminded them, packing away the lunch supplies. "I'll be here taking a nap if you need me." (Balinor had gone off in search of some special waterfall.) **  
  
** Suddenly feeling cold and too exposed with the sea breeze cooling the water droplets across his chest, Arthur quickly grabbed his t shirt and pulled it on. Better. **  
  
** Merlin followed suit and then they were standing there surveying the beach and trying to decipher his mother's 'take a walk.' **  
  
** "Pick a direction," Arthur offered Merlin. **  
  
** Merlin chose the right. **  
  
** They walked together in silence for a while, just ambling along. **  
  
** Merlin picked up a flat looking rock, weighed it in his hand for a moment, and then skipped it across a wave creeping up on the shore. It bounced five times before plonking into the sea. **  
  
** "Nice one mate," Arthur let the admiration show in his voice. **  
  
** Merlin just lifted one shoulder in a shrug and offered him the next flat rock he found. **  
  
** Arthur was crap at skipping stones, but with a couple of pointers from Merlin on adjusting his grip and leading with his elbow, he managed a reasonable three skips. **  
  
** "Pretty good," Merlin allowed, and then they turned away from the beach. **  
  
** Arthur had seen the caves in the distance as they walked and was immediately curious. Despite their bare feet, they were soon climbing over rocks worn smooth by the surf and scrambling from rock to rock as they reached an opening that was nestled into the cliff, the surf coming right up to the threshold of the opening, right on its doorstep. **  
  
** Stopping in the opening, Arthur was caught by a sudden bout of lightheadedness. He leaned over and panted, resting his palms on his knees. **  
  
** "Oh, is the big footballer all tired out?" Merlin's voice echoed eerily in the mouth of the cave. He nimbly joined Arthur on the rock just before the entrance. **  
  
** "Shuddup," Arthur grumbled and straightened up. The cave seemed to be lit with by natural sinkholes in the ceiling, sunlight streaming down over grey rock. A small stream trickled out to join the ocean on the right side, and the air blowing out of the cave smelled sweet instead of the musty smell Arthur was expecting. Yet strangely... **  
  
** "Are we sure we want to explore this?" Arthur asked uneasily. Arthur didn't know why, but he felt a wrongness in his gut, and he knew, he just **** _ knew, _ **** that if he stepped into the cave it would get worse. **  
  
** Merlin gave him an incredulous look and started to edge inside. "Are you crazy? Of course we do! Where's your sense of adventure?" **  
  
** Arthur frowned. "I have a bad feeling Merlin." **  
  
** Merlin rolled his eyes. "Come on scaredy pants. You must have eaten the bad meat for lunch. I told Mum to throw it out." Arthur clenched his fists as Merlin wandered into the opening of the cave, walking about ten feet forward before stopping in the middle of a sun spot. The sunlight almost sparkled on his skin and in his hair, and it would have stolen Arthur's breath if not for the sick clench of his gut. **  
  
** "Merlin!" he bit out, bare feet rooted to the smooth stone floor. Merlin rolled his eyes (again!) and walked back over to Arthur. **  
  
** "Come on," he insisted and grabbed Arthur's wrist. "Arthur. Let's go." Arthur resisted the pulling once, twice, before sighing and giving in, his legs finally allowing him to move. **  
  
** "If we die, I will never forgive you," he warned, as they both started into the cave. Merlin's fingers pressed tight against his wrist, then slipped down to squeeze against his palm before dropping it. Arthur absentmindedly rubbed the tingles away as he followed Merlin from sun patch to sun patch. **  
  
** The cave was mostly one big cavern, about twenty meters deep and ten meters wide. **  
  
** "You could almost play football in here," Merlin commented before miming punting a ball. **  
  
** "Not quite," Arthur said dryly. The tight fist in his stomach hadn't loosened, but his feet were steady where he put them. Curiously, the rocks that made up the floor were smooth against their bare feet. **  
  
** "Probably made that way from flowing water," Merlin poked at a stone with his toe. "Lucky for us, since we didn't bring shoes, eh?" **  
  
** "Sure." Arthur ran an edge of his toe over a patch of moss. "This is just wonderful. Can we go back now?" **  
  
** "Spoilsport!" Merlin accused him before skipping into the very depths of the cave. There were less sun spots there, so Merlin's face was thrown into the shadows as he ran his hands along the back wall. **  
  
** "It's a rather nice cave," he commented. "Probably holds heat well. Would be a good spot for a camp out, providing you had something against the sea breeze. I imagine that gets pretty cold at night." He shot Arthur a grin before walking along the back wall, trailing his fingers behind him. **  
  
** Arthur stayed in the middle of the cavern, his arms folded, petulance radiating from every pore. "Great, that's it. Can we go now?" **  
  
** "Hold on," Merlin called, stopping to examine a patch of moss on the wall. "Does this look like it's in the shape of the queen's head to you?" **  
  
** Arthur stood on his tiptoes to try and see it from where he was standing. "Don't know. Don't really care," he said shortly. Merlin frowned at him. **  
  
** "Well, come and see then!" Reluctantly, Arthur took a couple of slow steps forward before joining Merlin at the wall. **  
  
** "It does kind of look like a crown," he admitted, running the tips of his fingers over the edge of the patch of moss. **  
  
** "Told you!" Merlin chirped, before starting to follow the wall line again. **  
  
** Arthur rolled his eyes and peered more closely at the moss patch. If his eyes weren't playing tricks on him... It looked like the moss was **** _ glowing _ **** slightly in the dim light. "Phosphorescence," he muttered to himself and snorted. Maybe he did learn something in his Chemistry class. **  
  
** "Woah," came the soft voice of Merlin, and Arthur's head snapped up. **  
  
** "What?" he said, immediately on guard. **  
  
** "Another passageway!" Merlin said brightly. "Come on Arthur, let's go exploring!" **  
  
** "That's an extremely bad idea," Arthur said immediately. **  
  
** Merlin turned away from the opening in the wall and pouted at him, his lower lip sticking out slightly. "Please Arthur? We don't have to go all the way down the tunnel. Just to see if it goes on or stops in a nearby cavern." **  
  
** "We don't have shoes, a torch, or anyway of knowing we're coming back the right way," Arthur reminded him. "Like I said, bad idea." **  
  
** Merlin frowned and chewed at his lip. "Okay, you're going to think I'm crazy, but I **** _ know _ **** this won't be a long winding tunnel that will get us lost. It feels right to me." **  
  
** Arthur rubbed at his arms. Suddenly the breeze cut through his thin t-shirt leaving goosebumps behind. "It feels wrong to me," he said uneasily. **  
  
** "Look," Merlin said reasonably, "maybe we can just go five minutes? Five minutes, if we don't find anything, we'll turn back. We won't make any turns or go down strange tunnels. Five minutes. Just to see where it goes." **  
  
** Arthur normally prided himself on a strong will, but when it came to Merlin... **  
  
** "Five minutes," he agreed with a sigh. "No more! And if we hit a fork, we turn back." **  
  
** "Yay!" Merlin actually pumped his fist and led the way into the tunnel. **  
  
** The light dimmed around them as they left the sun behind and Arthur's skin prickled at the change of temperature. Rounding the bend was even darker but the tunnel seemed to be lit by a blueish glow, which Arthur quickly realized was coming from more of the phosphorescent moss that grew in patches on the rock. **  
  
** "Cool," Merlin whispered, running his palm over the moss, his hand showing in a bizarre silhouette of blue. Arthur pushed at his shoulder and mimed pointing at his wrist. For some reason, he didn't want to talk and hear his voice echoing along the passageway. They continued. **  
  
** They went around more and more twists and turns, the walls getting more and more covered in moss. Arthur could see their bare feet now as they walked, lit in that eerie blueish glow. **  
  
** Merlin," he whispered. "This is creepy. Can we go back now?" **  
  
** Merlin's voice in front of him was disembodied, bouncing and echoing more than it should off the rock. "It hasn't been five minutes yet. You can go back if you want though." **  
  
** Arthur swallowed and gritted his teeth. He was definitely not going back on his own. And he was most definitely not going to ignore the challenge in Merlin's voice. Merlin led the way onward, his steps sure and confident, Arthur following more cautiously. **  
  
** \--- **  
  
** Merlin's heart was beating hard inside his chest, a steady thrum, thrum, thrum, propelling him onward, urging his feet forward, causing his head to spin wildly. Just a little further, it told him. You'll see. **  
  
** His feet picked up pace, rushing him around the turns in the tunnel, Arthur huffing and breaking into a jog behind him, grunting, complaining, "Merlin! Stop running! I can barely see!" **  
  
** Merlin skidded around the next bend- the last bend- and blinked in the sudden sunlight. It was a little room, a cavern in the cave, with open holes in the ceiling to let sunlight pour down into the chamber below. In the center, a smooth stone about as high as Merlin's waist rested in the center of the biggest circle of sunshine. It looked big enough for a man to lay upon. Merlin swallowed hard and Arthur crashed into him from behind. **  
  
** "Ow, fuck!" They both flailed, overbalanced and a little too much pressed against each other, until Arthur grabbed the back of Merlin's shirt and managed to lever both of them into a standing position. **  
  
** "Ow," Merlin muttered and rubbed his elbow. "Why'd you barrel into me?" **  
  
** "Why'd you take off running so fast and then stop so fast?" Arthur huffed and winced as he pressed at a spot on his ribs. "Your elbows are sharp, mate!" **  
  
** "Well your abs are," he considered, "solid," he finished lamely. "Anyway I stopped because of this," he gestured at the room behind them, even though Arthur would have to be extremely dense not to notice it. **  
  
** Arthur surprised him. Instead of rolling his eyes and insulting him, Arthur simply peered into the room and shifted from foot to foot. "We shouldn't be here," he said quietly. **  
  
** Merlin shrugged and looked behind him. The room looked the same as it did before, peaceful even. "I think you're crazy," he told Arthur, and took a step into the room. **  
  
** There seemed to be moss growing on the ground in the patches of sunlight. It was deliciously soft against his feet just as the warmth of the sun was like a kiss against his cheeks, warming him from the inside out and making his fingers tingle slightly at the contrast from the cool cave. **  
  
** He laid a hand on the slab of stone- an altar, he thought suddenly. It was the right shape, about waist high and perfectly centered within a patch of sunlight and moss. He skimmed a hand along the smooth edge. "But an altar to what?" he wondered. **  
  
** Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat and Merlin turned his head to look at him. Arthur's eyes were wide and almost fearful as he stood just beyond the entrance to the room, his head leaning inside. **  
  
** "Come in," Merlin invited. "The sun's warm." **  
  
** "I shouldn't," Arthur said mechanically, shaking his head. He made another noise. "It's wrong Merlin. Can't you feel it? It's like a growling in my head and I can't stand it." **  
  
** Merlin stared at him. It wasn't a growling. It was more like... a singing. The moss sang to him under his toes just as the sun whispered its warmth into his skin. The altar beneath his palms was humming, an eerie, twisting melody, whispering through his consciousness, just on the edge. He tried to grasp at the notes, to bring a tune out of the singing, but the music slipped through his fingers, fading away into his head. **  
  
** "Merlin," came the strangled voice and Merlin realized that he'd been staring into space. He frowned at Arthur and walked to the other side of the altar, turning to face Arthur over it. **  
  
** Arthur was still standing in the tunnel, only leaning into the little room. Merlin frowned. "It's just a room, Arthur. Take it easy." Arthur shook his head and shuffled his bare feet. **  
  
** Merlin turned his attention back to the altar and ran his hands over the edges. "I wonder who built this," he murmured. "Who did they worship?" **  
  
** The moss beneath his bare feet tickled as he circled the little shrine. A breeze suddenly kicked up from above and sent dead leaves swirling around the chamber. Merlin watched, open mouthed as they circled around him. "Cool!" he blurted out. He raised his hands, almost as if trying to catch them and the humming coming from the rock grew more intense. **  
  
** "Merlin!" came the hushed whisper from the doorway. Merlin looked up, slightly annoyed and saw Arthur, leaning against the rock in the doorway, pale under his tan and frankly a little green. "Merlin I don't feel so good all of a sudden." **  
  
** The breeze died down, the humming from the rock interrupted, the moment broken. "Do you want to go back?" Merlin hurried to the other side of the stone to hover near Arthur. **  
  
** "Yes," Arthur said stiffly, wincing as Merlin looked into his eyes and placed a palm against his forehead. **  
  
** "You don't feel warm, but maybe your sandwich was off?" **  
  
** Arthur half shrugged, but one of his arms across his stomach tightened. **  
  
** "Let's go back," Merlin said and Arthur agreed. **  
  
** With every step that Arthur took, his color returned to him, and he walked straighter, the tight lines around his mouth easing. They soon found themselves in the big cavern and Arthur made straight for the entrance where they came in. Arthur stood for a moment, breathing in the salty ocean air. **  
  
** "Better?" Merlin asked. Arthur nodded. **  
  
** "Maybe you were allergic to one of the flowers or plants that were in that cavern," Merlin suggested quietly. Arthur gave a half shrug. **  
  
** "I've always liked open spaces," Arthur admitted after a minute had passed. "Small spaces... Sometimes they make me uncomfortable." He winced but Merlin just clapped him on the shoulder. **  
  
** "Thought for a minute there you were going to upchuck all over my feet and trunks, mate. Glad you didn't though. I wouldn't want to explain to your parents what happened to your sorry self. Getting lost in a cave and passing out isn't necessarily a crowning achievement." **  
  
** Arthur shrugged and rubbed at the goosebumps dotting his arms. "I've been in worse," he muttered and scuffed a toe against the rock. **  
  
** Merlin rolled his eyes and started to lead them back across the sand to where his mother was waiting. **  
  
** \--- **  
  
** Arthur was going to ignore it. Yes, he was. **  
  
** He had told Merlin the truth. The cave felt wrong to him. Like it wasn't compatible with his DNA and was rejecting him. Him, a Pendragon! Rejected by a cavern. What a story that was. So, he had told Merlin the truth, but he hadn't told him all of it. **  
  
** The visit to the caves had left Arthur exhausted, whether it was the running after Merlin (unlikely, his mind scoffed) or the strange grating vibrations that had jarred his brain, leaving him shaky and wan. **  
  
** But while Arthur was exhausted, Merlin was a burning bundle of energy, practically skipping along beside Arthur, running in and out of the surf, chattering incessantly. **  
  
** "We have to go back, Arthur!" Merlin was saying. "There must have been an indigenous population on the island that practiced some sort of rituals there. That stone altar didn't look natural did it?" **  
  
** It was a rhetorical question, but Arthur gritted his teeth against answering anyway. **  
  
** The pounding at his temples calmed a little, allowing the throbbing in his head to bleed off. By the time they'd made their way back to Hunith and Balinor, Arthur's ears had stopped ringing and he was able to make coherent conversation about the cave. **  
  
** They were very interested in it of course. Hunith even told them a little about the island's history and some things that they planned to visit while they were there. **  
  
** Merlin told them about everything, even down to the phosphorescent moss. He did kindly leave out Arthur's feelings about the entire place. **  
  
** By the time Merlin had finished his story, Hunith declared them ready for more swimming. This time while bodysurfing, Arthur was pretty sure that he was getting the hang of it. He even rode a wave out until it crashed upon the shore- and then Arthur promptly crashed into Merlin. **  
  
** The arguments and banter between them was easy, a give and take fed by Arthur's sharp remarks and Merlin's rolling eyes. **  
  
** But even with an afternoon full of bodysurfing, pretending to bury Merlin in the sand, and attempting the tallest sand castle in the world, Arthur still could not shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of the cave. **  
  
** As he said goodbye to the Emryses, an image presented itself unbidden on the back of his eyelids: **  
  
** Merlin standing over the altar, with hands raised as if in offering, leaves swirling around him, the irises of his eyes a shockingly bright gold. **  
  
** The image stayed with him as he brushed his teeth that night, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over his head.

 

 

 

  


  


 

 

**  
  
** \--- **  
  
** Merlin woke to the sound of rain beating at his window. Wrinkling his nose, he curled up deeper underneath his blankets and tried to block out the rhythmic patter. It grew softer to his ears and he was beginning to slip down into sleep again when a sharp knocking at the door made him sit up in bed, gasping. **  
  
** "Merlin!" Hunith called. "Isn't it a little late to still be in bed?" **  
  
** Merlin looked at his alarm clock. It was nine in the morning. He groaned and sank down onto his pillow. Rubbing his eyes, he felt a headache begin to pulse at his temples in beat with the rain. **  
  
** Shoving back the bedclothes, he padded across the cool floor to half kneel on the window seat. The rain wasn't as hard as it had seemed before, but seemed more of a dreary drizzle, painting the window with blotches and causing the colors of the sand, sea, and rocks to blend and blur together. It must have been the pounding of his head that had woken him. **  
  
** He scowled and shivered in just a pair of ratty flannel pajama pants as he looked out over the water. He was still sore from his and Arthur's bodysurfing from the day before, but today there would be no going to the beach, or even going very far outside, by the looks of it. **  
  
** Scowling at his headache, he gathered his stuff for a shower and took a long and steamy one, childishly drawing faces in the mirror before wiping everything down. The hot water had eased the ache in his shoulders, but had done nothing for the incessant throbbing at his temples. **  
  
** Bored and not particularly ready to face the world or his mother, Merlin sat on the window seat with his head in his hand, watching the grey waves crash on the shore. In his mind's eye, he traveled back to the chamber they had found the day before, willing away the rain as he traveled over the beach, into the cave, finding the passageway to skim down the corridor to the small room. The rain didn't reach there. Instead a ray of sunshine fell down to the exact center of the stone altar. Merlin reached out a hand to touch the beam of sunlight and found himself floating up towards the hole in the ceiling, light as air. The sunlight grew, engulfing the rain, drying it up, and Merlin **** _ pushed _ **** the raindrops back up into the dark clouds, leaving the sand dry and the ocean a light blue. **  
  
** "Merlin!" his mother's voice cut through his daydream like a sword. He opened his eyes and scowled heavily. The rain had only gotten harder. **  
  
** Dressing in a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt, Merlin went down to breakfast with his mother. Balinor had already hidden himself away in his office for the day- researching, or writing, or brainstorming or something. **  
  
** His mother had rolled her eyes and pushed a plate with toast on it when he had asked. **  
  
** "Your father's busy," was all she told him and proceeded to ply him with jam. **  
  
** "Supposedly there's a dresser in the attic that would be perfect in your room," she told him as he finished his orange juice. "Your dad can help you bring it down if you can manage to find it." **  
  
** "Um." He took the last gulp of juice. "I was going to see what Arthur was doing today?" It wouldn't be that weird wanting to hang out with him three days in a row, he thought. Right? **  
  
** Hunith sighed and took his plate and glass away from him. "Wear a jacket in the rain young man. And don't go in the ocean. The riptides get nasty when it storms." **  
  
** "Thanks Mum," he said, and kissed her cheek. "I'll look for the dresser another time. Er. Where's the entrance to the attic?" To be honest, he didn't even know they had an attic. **  
  
** Hunith shook her head as she turned to the sink. "There's a small door at the end of the hallway. Honestly Merlin, how could you have missed it?" **  
  
** She missed his eye roll and shrug as she started the dishes. **  
  
** As he dashed upstairs to grab his coat, he looked and spotted the small door, about four feet high, nestled at the end of the hallway. Well, it wasn't **** _ that _ **** obvious. **  
  
** Knocking the Pendragon's doorknocker seemed like a habit that Merlin could get into, as opposed to ringing the doorbell. If he was back in England he would have texted Arthur first, but the lack of technology on the island was severely inhibiting his social life. **  
  
** Luckily he didn't have to wait in the rain for long before Arthur swung the door open and grinned at him. **  
  
** "Merlin!" he crowed. "You look like a drowned rat!" **  
  
** "Prat," Merlin muttered, pushing his way past Arthur, making sure his jacket brushed against Arthur's clothes, getting them wet in the process. Merlin smiled. **  
  
** Arthur scowled at him and just took his jacket to hang up and dry. Merlin ran a hand through his hair, trying to make it look a little less than soaked spikes. He probably failed. **  
  
** "We're searching for secret passageways today," Arthur announced, grabbing Merlin by the elbow and towing him upstairs. "Well, that is," Arthur's voice turned a bit sheepish and shy, "if you want to. We could always play video games or something else. Or-" **  
  
** "That's fine Arthur," Merlin interrupted him, amused. "Searching for passageways sounds lovely." **  
  
** "Great!" Arthur beamed, yanking Merlin into his room and promptly taking off his shirt. **  
  
** "Er, what?" Merlin said stupidly and tried not to be fascinated by the expanse of Arthur's back and the way that his ribs were just barely visible under his skin as Arthur walked over to his dresser. "I didn't know that searching for hidden corridors required nakedness?" **  
  
** "Oh shut up **** _ Mer_lin," Arthur's voice was muffled as he dug through a dresser drawer. " _ You _ **** are the one who got my other shirt all wet." **  
  
** Merlin scoffed. "You were barely damp! Prat." **  
  
** "Yeah, well." Arthur turned to face him while tugging on a red t shirt. He looks good in red, Merlin thought inanely. "It was cold rain." **  
  
** Merlin ran a hand through his still wet hair and shrugged. **  
  
** "Here," Arthur said, and handed him a cigar. Merlin stared at it, and then at Arthur. **  
  
** "I don't smoke," he said confusedly. Arthur picked his own cigar and a lighter up from the desk. **  
  
** "Neither do I," Arthur said loftily, "but we do today." **  
  
** Arthur placed the cigar between his lips and expertly clicked the lighter on, touching the flame to the tip in a fiery kiss. He exhaled a cloud of blue smoke. "I think we should start in my dad's study," he said, voice just a bit raspy. **  
  
** Merlin swallowed, hard. Smoking was bad, he reminded himself. A disgusting habit. And yet- and yet. When Arthur's lips were wrapped around the cigar, sucking gently and then pursing as he blew out... Merlin shifted from either foot, and fiddled with his cigar. **  
  
** "I've never smoked before," he said stupidly. **  
  
** "Perfect day to try!" Arthur said cheerfully. He then got extremely close to Merlin, brandishing the lighter. "The trick is to not breathe in all the way, into your lungs. Just suck into your mouth. Otherwise it will hurt." **  
  
** Merlin nodded. His hands were trembling slightly as he stuck the end of the cigar in his mouth. It didn't have a filter, he realized. **  
  
** "C'mere," Arthur said and beckoned him forward. "You have to inhale when I touch the flame to the end. Gently though, or you'll put it out," he instructed. **  
  
** Merlin stuck the tapered end into his mouth and shuffled closer to Arthur. Leaning in, he sucked gently on the cigar when Arthur touched the flame to the end. It wasn't too bad, he decided as the flame caught. **  
  
** Pulling away, he blew a small cloud in Arthur's face. "Not bad," he commented. **  
  
** Arthur smirked. "Watch," he commanded and took a long drag on his cigar. Tilting his head back towards the ceiling, he blew four perfect smoke rings into the air. **  
  
** "Nice." Merlin tried to copy him but it ended very pitifully. **  
  
** "Takes practice," Arthur shoved him gently. "Okay, let me show you Dad's study and his secret room there so we know what we're looking for." **  
  
** Merlin followed him along the carpeted hallway, attempting to blow smoke rings into the air above his head. **  
  
** "You're doing it wrong," Arthur said obnoxiously, and pushed him into a room that was lined with bookshelves, which were filled with what looked like encyclopedias. **  
  
** "Good reading material?" Merlin commented and raised an eyebrow. **  
  
** Arthur rolled his eyes. "Dad didn't want the shelves bare but we're barely here at all, so the encyclopedias from every single used bookstore in the area made their way here. Over here." **  
  
** Merlin trailed after Arthur to stand in front of what looked like an ordinary bookshelf. And then he noticed that the shelves were angled slightly upwards. **  
  
** "Is this-" he pointed and a piece of ash dropped from his cigar. Arthur rolled his eyes. **  
  
** "This is the entrance, yes. It's even fully functional as a bookcase because of the shelves. No fake books necessary." Arthur tapped a hand on the shelves as he talked. Then he stuck the cigar in his mouth and took a long drag. **  
  
** Making sure Merlin was watching, he carefully blew a line of smoke from about a foot to the right of the bookcase all the way across. **  
  
** Merlin watched, fascinated, as the smoke lingered in the air in front of the books but was sucked into the almost imperceptible cracks between the cases on either side. **  
  
** "And that's how you find a secret door," Arthur said with satisfaction, and groped the underside of a lower shelf. **  
  
** Something mechanical clicked and the bookcase swung open with a grating sound. It was darker inside, but Merlin could make out file cabinets and random dust covered boxes. **  
  
** It wasn't very big- maybe one meter by two meters- but it was still awesome. **  
  
** "Do you think we should start on the rest of the study first? Maybe there's a passageway to go with the secret storage room," Merlin suggested as they walked back out and Arthur toggled the switch to close the bookshelf. **  
  
** Arthur shrugged. "Okay, yeah." They wandered around the room for a couple of minutes, aimlessly blowing smoke into the air. **  
  
** "There isn't really a way to tell if there's a passageway in the fireplace, is there?" Merlin asked idly, and then blew a line of smoke towards the hearth, watching it immediately getting sucked up the chimney. **  
  
** Arthur came up behind him. "Not really," he admitted, rather close to Merlin's ear, close enough to smell the nicotine on his breath. "We could come back and see if pulling on things does anything though." **  
  
** Unceremoniously, they moved on. There were several spare bedrooms that they wandered through, mattresses stripped and furniture covered in sheets, but they found nothing but dust bunnies and plenty of spiders. **  
  
** "I hate spiders," Merlin complained and purposely blew smoke at the nearest one. Arthur rolled his eyes and ushered him on. **  
  
** "This was the master bedroom before Father remodeled," he said, leading Merlin into the largest room yet. "Father wanted a room with better light, but decided to leave this room in all its glory." **  
  
** There was a four poster bed in the center of the room, probably big enough to sleep a family of seven, and various pieces of sheet-covered furniture hovered like ghosts flocking the room. **  
  
** Merlin was blowing out smoke lazily- he had gotten the hang of it now, enjoying the tingle on his ton

ue- when he was surprised by the smoke suddenly disappearing in front of him. "Arthur," he said calmly, forcing any excitement from bleeding into his words. "Come here." **  
  
** Arthur blew a smoke ring in his face as he came over. **  
  
** Merlin scowled and took as long of a drag on his cigar that he could without inhaling and almost choking to death. Without saying anything, he blew his mouthful of smoke at the piece of wall he had found earlier, and they both watched as it was sucked into an almost invisible crack in the wall. **  
  
** "Awesome," Arthur breathed, his eyes lighting up. "It's even hidden by the texture of the wall!" **  
  
** Merlin nodded and blew smoke in Arthur's face. Payback. **  
  
** Ignoring him, Arthur handed him his cigar and placed his fingertips on the crack, following it to about a meter and a half high before it went horizontal and much more door-shaped. He started to feel around the molding of the wall. "Nothing," he muttered, and then ripped back the sheet on the nearest piece of furniture. **  
  
** It was a heavy wooden roll-top desk, and for all of Arthur's shoving, seemed to be attached to the wall, or at least way too heavy for Arthur to move. **  
  
** Merlin alternated between both of the cigars as he watched Arthur work: first pulling up the cover and then running his hand underneath the bottom of the table of the desk. He carefully stuck his fingers into each of the pigeon holes as Merlin entertained himself by blowing smoke into his hair. **  
  
** It was opening and closing of the various little drawers, however, that caused a loud and very mechanic **** _ click. _ **** Arthur grinned. **  
  
** "Put out the cigars. We have to go find torches." **  
  
** Merlin frowned. "These are good cigars," he said pointedly. **  
  
** Arthur shook his head. "I knew they would grow on you," he said wryly, and took back his own cigar. "C'mon. We can finish them on the back porch before going exploring. We should probably eat lunch anyway." **  
  
** Merlin wasn't exactly **** _ scared _ **** of the secret passageway, only, apprehensive. Yes, that was the right word. Probably dark and full of cobwebs, they had no idea to where it led. So he was perfectly fine with waiting a little longer. And also for Arthur to go first into the entrance. **  
  
** "Mum will probably kill me for all the smoke," Arthur said casually they lounged on the back porch, carefully staying under the small awning and away from the drizzle that the storm had turned into. **  
  
** Merlin choked and inhaled way too much smoke than he should have. Arthur pounded him on the back as he coughed hard. "Ow," he said weakly once he could breathe. "And maybe you should have thought of that before smoking cigars all over your house." He broke into coughing again. **  
  
** Arthur shrugged. "It was worth it. Plus Father will be happy about finding another passageway. Figures it would be in the master bedroom. Easy escape or hiding place for the family I guess?" **  
  
** Merlin coughed deeply and tried a couple more shallow breaths. "I guess I'm not a very good smoker," he said hoarsely. **  
  
** Arthur grinned. "Oh, I've corrupted you. How smashing." **  
  
** Rolling his eyes, Merlin placed the cigar back between his lips and whacked Arthur on the arm. Carefully, he took a drag and sighed the smoke out. **  
  
** "All done," Arthur said cheerfully and stubbed out the butt of his cigar in the wet sand just off the porch. "Come along Merlin, I'm ravenous." **  
  
** Taking another drag and then giving up, Merlin put out his own cigar and followed Arthur into the house for a lunch of pot noodle that Merlin had to make because Arthur was extremely incompetent. **  
  
** "I know how to make sandwiches," Arthur scowled, his chin resting on his hands as he watched Merlin boil the water. "I like sandwiches." **  
  
** Merlin snorted. "Clearly." **  
  
** \---  
  
  
Arthur was getting indignant. Sandwiches were a perfectly acceptable food. They displayed a fine grasp for the culinary art. First one must- okay well. Sandwiches rather sucked, but Arthur was actually pretty good at making them.  
  
He was just being sulky on purpose because Merlin wasn’t falling for any of his verbal tricks and wasn’t being cowed by his teasing.  
  
“This is good,” he muttered reluctantly as they both slurped down noodles.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Arthur, it’s pot noodle,” he said dryly. “Someday I’ll have to teach you how to make real food instead of relying on your various servants.”  
  
“We don’t have servants!” Arthur pouted. “We have a housekeeper. And a gardener. That’s it. There’s a difference.”  
  
“Yes, well. The gardener in my house is my father.” Merlin shook his head wryly. “And the housekeeper is a mixture of my mother and me. She does the cooking and I do the cleaning.” Merlin leaned towards him. “Do you even know where the cleaning supplies are in this house?”  
  
Arthur ignored him. “Done,” he announced and whisked Merlin’s not-finished-bowl out from under his spoon and placing both their bowls in the sink.  
  
“Let’s go,” he said, and hauled Merlin up by the back collar of his t-shirt.  
  
Equipping themselves for the trip was pretty easy. They put on their trainers and Arthur found them two torches along with the lighter and screwdriver that he had stuck in his back pocket.  
  
It took some careful shimmying with the screwdriver and lots of cursing for him to open the door far enough to get his fingers in the crack and pull.  
  
And after opening it and seeing the gaping black space absolutely covered in spiders’ webs, they grabbed two short brooms to brush away the webs so they wouldn’t get them in their hair.  
  
The steps leading down were rickety and creaky, but they held. Arthur led the way with the biggest torch and Merlin brought up the rear with the smallest torch Arthur could find, clear marks in the dust trailing behind them in the shape of shoes.  
  
It was dark and the torch in Arthur’s hand did little to cut through the darkness and the eerie whiteness of the cobwebs. Arthur couldn’t help but walk into one or two and just started swinging the broom in front of him in wide arcs to keep them off his face. Maybe the spiders were all dead? Maybe. Hopefully.  
  
“Where do you think it goes?” Merlin’s voice cut through his thoughts and he almost jumped. Almost. Not that this whole experience was starting to creep him out.  
  
The abandoned tunnel that led to who knows where. The possibility of spiders crawling up the walls and- well. Nearby.  
  
Arthur was reassured by Merlin’s breath on his neck when he slowed down suddenly. It was even and steady. Calm.  
  
“Arthur.” Speaking of...  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Secret escape tunnel to the basement? To the ocean? Caves? Smuggling storage? Secret chamber where the master of the house kept his mistresses?” Merlin kicked him in the calf.  
  
“Be serious,” he chided.  
  
“I am being serious!” Arthur laughed. “Father always use to say that the family that they bought the house from was really mad. Like, the one surviving grandson might have ended up in a mental institution mad. Dunno though. It was a big house.”  
  
They walked down thirty four steps before the passageway leveled off and began leading them in twists and turns.  
  
Then they saw the first door. There was no handle.  
  
Arthur stopped. “Um,” he said.  
  
“You are very eloquent,” Merlin said dryly.  
  
“Shut it. The passageway keeps going.”  
  
“Funny you should mention that. I see that too. And I also see a door that is making me burn with curiosity.” Merlin shifted from foot to foot. Finally he just shoved his torch at Arthur.  
  
“Hold this you prat. Honestly, you’re a bit useless. Where did you put that screwdriver?”  
  
Arthur elbowed him and shoved the torches and his broom into Merlin’s arms, pulling the screwdriver out of his pocket. “Move aside peasant.”  
  
“I am aside you prat!” But Merlin moved a step to the side so Arthur could start the careful process of jabbing the screwdriver into the cracks of the door and attempting to pry it open while Merlin had the attention span of a goldfish trying to train the torch on Arthur’s work.  
  
“You are not helping,” Arthur gritted out as he attempted to put his weight into … doing something. The screwdriver wasn’t really helping very much.  
  
“Why are you just trying to use brute force on this?” Merlin sounded vaguely amused. “It probably has a-” he broke off suddenly and Arthur’s light disappeared, just in time for the door to swing inwards, and for Arthur to fall to another dust covered floor, hitting his elbow on the way down.  
  
“Ow,” he said in a pitiful voice, not even caring how it sounded.  
  
“Sorry, sorry!” Merlin rushed to say and turned the torch so it was shining directly into Arthur’s eyes.  
  
“Merlin,” he moaned, covering his eyes. “You really are an idiot.”  
  
“Sorry,” Merlin murmured softly. Arthur could feel the body heat of Merlin leaning over him. The light of the torch was trained somewhere on the floor, but it didn’t get rid of the white spots crowding Arthur’s vision. “I found a button on the wall and it just seemed like the smart thing to do to push it, I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking about you leaning on it,” Merlin babbled. “Are you okay? What hurts?”  
  
Reaching out, he pushed Merlin away from him. “If you move, I’m okay,” Arthur said dryly. “I just banged my elbow. And can’t really see.”  
  
Merlin rocked back on his heels. “Well at least you haven’t lost your prattishness.” He shoved a torch into Arthur’s hands- the small one- and pointed his torch, finally, into the blackness of the room.  
  
It wasn’t a room that Arthur had ever seen before in the basement and obviously hadn’t been touched for years, judging by the thick layer of dust coating everything. Between the spots clouding his vision, Arthur could make out a roll top desk (like the one in the bedroom earlier) and several what looked like small dressers crowding the room.  
  
Merlin tentatively pulled open the top drawer of the nearest one and pulled out a stack of papers.  
  
“It’s a file cabinet,” he said vaguely, holding the top paper up to the torch to read. “Deciembre 18º 1879.  En las cuevas. Hoy descubrí un otro sendero al cuarto de las brujas. Las brujas-”  
  
“Merlin I can’t speak Spanish,” Arthur cut in, extremely annoyed. Finally he was able to glare at Merlin without the spots in his eyes.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “It’s a report of some kind. About the caves.” He read a bit more, mouthing the words at one point. “And witches.”  
  
Arthur stared at him. “Witches,” he said flatly. “Right.”  
  
“The next one is about witches too.” Merlin started rifling through the stack. “Witches, witches, caves, the woods, and oh, this one’s about monsters.” Merlin glanced down at Arthur and frowned. “Did you say the owner was crazy?”  
  
Arthur pursed his lips. “Yes.” He picked himself off the floor and peered over Merlin’s shoulder. It was like Greek. But with the Roman alphabet. Scanning all the way to the bottom, Arthur spotted something he recognized:  
  
“Aredian!” Arthur stabbed at the paper with his finger, almost knocking it out of Merlin’s hands.  
  
“Gentle!” Merlin scolded. “These documents are over a hundred years old you oaf.”  
  
“Jonathan Aredian,” Arthur said pointedly. “The man we bought the house from had the surname of Aredian.”  
  
“He was kind of crazy.” Merlin pulled open another drawer, then another, and another. All of them were filled with documents, ranging from _years_ apart. “All of these reports are about witches or monsters. Criaturas, or creatures. Wow. Yeah. Definitely crazy.”  
  
Bored already with the Spanish, Arthur wandered over to the roll top desk. It took a little pushing, but eventually it opened with a creak.  
  
A pair of iron manacles. An open notebook with hand sketches- a cat with wings, a little fairy in the woods (not a friendly Disney fairy though, this one looked nasty), drawings of a pentagram, a horned devil, several nude women dancing around a fire (Arthur didn’t blush). Many books. An almost finished candle burned down into a puddle of wax in a silver holder. A scrap of paper with a rough pentagram drawn in what looked like... blood?  
  
“He was crazy and also a perv,” Merlin commented from right behind him, managing to sneak up on him _again_. “A Compendium of Magick,” he ran a finger through the dust on a thick book. “And this one’s in English.”  
  
Arthur pulled the book towards him, flipping open the cover. Inside, the pages were yellowed slightly, but covered in a thick black script and colored pictures and borders.  
  
“Woah,” he said softly. There was an introduction, descriptions and pictures of creatures, spells, rituals, special times of the year, holy days. Arthur flipped through the book, slightly amazed.  
  
“If he was so against ‘witches’ why would he have a compendium of magic,” Merlin muttered, running the tips of his fingers over the titles of some of the other books. “Spell books, rituals of the Druids, Druidic religions, Most Ancient and Wondrous of Creatures?”  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Crazy,” he reminded him. “This is giving me the creeps,” he admitted. He wasn’t used to admitting his insecurities out loud, but there was a prickle at the back of his neck that was making goosebumps ripple up and down his spine.  
  
Merlin picked up the Compendium. “We can always come back for more Crazy Mr. Aredian. We still have a passageway to explore.”  
  
Arthur frowned. Digging the lighter out of his pocket, he flipped it once and lit the ancient candle. Feeling much better with the warm glow in the room, Arthur felt brave enough to pick up the notebook and take it with them.  
  
The corridor was almost drafty compared to the little study and Arthur braced himself for more cobwebs as they continued on, the light from the candle glowing behind them until they turned a corner abruptly and it was gone.  
  
They found more doors, but none of them as interesting as the first. (“I feel like Nancy Drew,” Arthur muttered disgustedly, and kicked at an empty barrel in one of the little rooms.) The buttons to open the doors were easy to find once they knew what they were looking for.  
  
All they found were empty barrels and wooden crates, spiders, and in one memorable case, a very curious looking rat. Its red eyes made Arthur shudder.  
  
He closed that door quickly to find Merlin watching him amusedly.  
  
“What?” he demanded.  
  
“Oh, nothing.” Merlin smiled, and they moved on.  
  
The wooden walls of the passageway had given way to stone with wooden supports, and Arthur was quite sure that they were heading upwards now instead of flat. The turns were less twisty and suddenly Arthur stopped.  
  
“Do you hear that?” he turned back towards Merlin, who shrugged.  
  
“What?”  
  
Arthur frowned and then clicked off his torch. A second later, Merlin’s followed.  
  
There it was. A crashing sound.  
  
“It’s the beach,” Merlin’s voice came out of the darkness.  
  
“Yeah and I can see light up ahead, just a bit,” Arthur murmured.  
  
“It could just be that phosphorescent moss we saw the other day.” Arthur wasn’t sure, but it felt like Merlin had just rolled his eyes.  
  
Arthur paused and then turned his torch back on. “Let’s go.”  
  
Merlin ended up being right. They did run into several patches of moss glowing faintly in the darkness, but there was also a dull white light coming from the end of the tunnel.  
  
“Don’t go into the light!” Merlin proclaimed dramatically when Arthur pointed this out. Merlin got a punch in his shoulder for the trouble.  
  
“Merlin, I sincerely believe that you were dropped on your head as a child,” Arthur deadpanned.  
  
“Ow,” Merlin pouted and rubbed at his arm.  
  
“I didn’t hit you that hard.” Arthur rolled his eyes as they continued towards the light.  
  
The ocean was growing louder in the corridor as they walked, until the passageway opened up to show the rocks and the waves of the little inlet they had found yesterday. The rain had cleared, leaving the day still grey and overcast, but there was an overhang protecting them from the mist.  
  
Arthur couldn’t even see his house from where they were standing but he could see what looked like the cave opening a little to his left.  
  
Actually, he couldn’t see anything that looked like civilization at all.  
  
Merlin just sighed happily beside him. “‘S pretty,” he said and wandered out to the rocks to dangle his feet over the edge.  
  
The rock underneath their feet was smooth, looking almost exactly like the stone that they’d had wandered over the day before.  
  
“This must have been a smuggler’s escape or something,” Arthur announced, setting down the torches before tugging off his shoes to join Merlin on the ledge. “This is where they met ships to sneak away their stolen goods and stuff.”

 

  


  


  
  
Merlin smirked. “Or their secret mistresses.”  
  
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Witch hunter smugglers with secret mistresses. This is just getting better and better.”  
  
Merlin shoved him in the shoulder. “You are just too sarcastic Arthur.”  
  
“Obviously you need to get a sense of humor, _Mer_ lin.” Arthur pushed back at him with both hands.  
  
Merlin teetered on the edge and regained his balance at the last second. “Prat,” he gasped, and tackled Arthur the best he could.  
  
Suddenly Merlin’s hands were all over Arthur’s ribs and- oh, that tickled. Arthur was horribly, embarrassingly ticklish, and Merlin didn’t even know this and Arthur was still writhing on the ground, his t-shirt riding up and his back scraping annoyingly against the rock.  
  
“Merlin!” he gasped between choked bits of laughter. “Merlin, stop! Merlin! The edge!”  
  
Merlin was either merciless or clueless, however, because with each moment they were getting closer and closer to slipping into the water.  
  
Panicking, Arthur pulled a flippy move he’d seen on the telly once involving wrapping a leg around Merlin’s thighs. Which was both a bad and damn fine idea, in retrospect.  
  
Except he overshot and they rolled more than one time, more than a couple of times actually  
leaving them at the edge of the other side of the rock.  
  
Merlin was laughing underneath him, then above him, both of them grinning just up until the point that they realized they were in danger again and Arthur desperately tried to stop just as their momentum sent them teetering over the edge.  
  
Arthur fisted his hands in the back of Merlin’s t-shirt and shut his eyes tightly in anticipation of the shock of cold water but instead there was a sudden wrenching feeling behind his navel and  Merlin’s arms were like steel bands around him.  
  
The air was knocked out of him as his back slammed into rock again.  
  
Merlin’s weight was heavy on his chest as he slowly opened his eyes. “Why am I not wet?” he muttered.  
  
Merlin’s face was hovering above him, eyes reflecting the silver of the water very strangely. “You are so observant,” he said dryly, pulling himself off Arthur and to the side.  
  
Once his lungs were no longer being crushed, Arthur took in a deep breath. “How did that happen?”  
  
Merlin frowned. “I have muscles?” He didn’t sound convinced.  
  
Arthur snorted. “I’m sure you have some muscles Merlin, but I highly doubt this since they are visible to the naked eye.”  
  
Merlin looked annoyed. “I didn’t get you wet. Be grateful.”  
  
“Okay,” Arthur said slowly. “Calm down there. Just being curious.”  
  
Because the weather was great at being annoying and having appropriate timing, it started to mist.  
  
Sighing, Arthur lay back down and tried to slow his galloping heart.  
  
“Thanks,” he said after a moment.  
  
Merlin grunted. “Don’t mention it.”  
  
Arthur glanced over at him. Merlin had thrown an arm over his eyes and seemed to be taking slow, deep breaths.  
  
“Why don’t we go back?” Arthur suggested tentatively. “No reason to get wetter than we need to.”  
  
Merlin lifted his arm just enough to squint at him. “Yeah let’s go,” he said in a rough voice. The water’s reflection was turning his eyes into bronze-blue color again.  
  
Arthur sat up and pulled his trainers on. “Merlin, you’re an idiot,” he said offhandedly.  
  
“What did I do?” Merlin demanded.  
  
Arthur shrugged and smiled. “Dunno. Just felt like saying it.”  
  
Merlin scrambled up to punch him in the shoulder.  
  
“No pushing this time,” Arthur warned him.  
  
Merlin winced, then nodded.  
  
Their trip up the passageway was much less exciting, but at least Arthur remembered to stop and blow out the candle along the way.  
  
“You’re going to burn the house down,” Merlin muttered, only poking his head into Aredian’s secret room.  
  
Arthur shined his torch in Merlin’s eyes on purpose.  
  
They only realized just how dusty and covered in cobwebs they were when they emerged on the other side.  
  
Merlin laughed. “You have dirt on your nose.”  
  
“You have a spider in your hair.”  
  
“FUCK!”  
  
There actually wasn’t, but it was very amusing to make Merlin flail around like that.  
  
“You are the biggest prat I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet,” Merlin sulked as Arthur searched for the hidden button in the desk. Pressing it, however, did nothing but make something grate very loudly.  
  
They resorted to pushing on the door with their shoulders because, “I’m not going to leave just a gaping hole in the wall while I’m sleeping, letting anyone come in from the beach, are you crazy?” Arthur said indignantly.  
  
“The track must be rusted,” Merlin gritted out as they shoved.  
  
“Shut up. You’re wasting energy,” Arthur muttered in a tight voice. “There! It’s moving.”  
  
The door shut with an anticlimactic click.  
  
“You’re such a girl,” Merlin mocked him breathlessly.  
  
Arthur shot him a look.  
  
Merlin shrugged. “I think that’s enough adventure for one day.”  
  
Arthur straightened and nodded. “Let’s go to the back porch. I’ve got a couple more cigars.”  
  
\---  
  
Merlin was late to dinner and, according to his mother, smelled like a chimney when he finally got home.  
  
“Arthur and I found a secret passageway with cigars Mum!” He tried to smile sweetly. He didn’t think it worked.  
  
“You have cobweb in your hair.” Hunith was unimpressed. “Sit and eat with us.”  
  
Balinor was also unimpressed with Merlin’s smoking and proceeded to give him a lecture on the dangers of lung cancer and also the dangers of rolling one’s eyes at one’s father.  
  
But he was also very interested in the room that they had found and Aredian’s ledger.  
  
“You may have run across some buried part of history Merlin!” He nodded approvingly. “Pursue it! I would suggest starting in the town _biblioteca_. They might have some old newspapers or documents about this Aredian.”  
  
Merlin shrugged and played with his fork. Hunith was interested in the passageway. Balinor was interested in the history of the passageway.  
  
But all Merlin was interested in was the strange feeling of being yanked- of yanking- both him and Arthur out of the air and back onto the rock.  
  
How his eyes had burned hotly and his vision had suddenly gone razor sharp and bright.  
  
Also how Arthur had felt under his hands, wriggling and laughing, warm and firm- yes. That was interesting too.  
  
But- Merlin couldn’t explain it. _What was wrong with him?_  
  
The following day found Merlin dragging Arthur to the library, Arthur sulking the entire way.  
  
“I can’t even read Spanish,” Arthur whined, probably in what he thought was a manly pout. It wasn’t.  
  
“I’m sure there will be something in English for you to read Arthur.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “We are on a touristic island full of Brits. The locals can’t be that book-savvy.”  
  
Merlin did actually find Arthur plenty to read in English, including a book of the history of the island while Merlin scrolled through mimeograph after mimeograph of newspapers headlines, all in Spanish. (Merlin had to chat with the librarian for about 30 minutes in Spanish before getting access to those, laughing at her jokes the whole time.)  
  
Merlin yawned. God this was boring. There was some mention of witches in the 80s, but as Merlin read on, he realized that it had all been a prank played by the local teenagers. Not what they were going for.  
  
He straightened up in the chair when he hit the 1920s. “Local group found consorting in the park after midnight, found sacrificing a black cat?” He looked up at Arthur and was taken aback.  
  
Arthur was taking notes. “Oh, did you finally find something?” Arthur said obnoxiously. He pulled the notebook closer to him. “Carlos Aredian was one of the founders of the town. One of the first to settle the island. His grandson was Jonathon Aredian, known for sitting on the city council for over forty years and leading against the opposite political party, Las Druidas.”  
  
Merlin frowned and stood up to lean over Arthur’s shoulder. “Woah,” he murmured. Arthur was the one who had hit paydirt.  
  
Las Druidas were named after a religion very similar to the Celtic druids of Britain, practicioners of which had lived on the island for many many years.  
  
Merlin pursed his lips. “So when Aredian was talking about witches and gatherings, he was really talking about political meetings?  
  
Arthur gave him a look. “Merlin he had a compendium of magic. What do you think?”  
  
Merlin stared at him. “But magic doesn’t exist, Arthur.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Maybe he was delusional then. Still an interesting story. And also I live in the house of the founding father of the island and you live in the servant’s quarters,” he smirked.  
  
Merlin glared at him and shut down the machine. He plopped down in the chair next to Arthur. “Hand me that book about the Druidic religion.”  
  
This book was much more helpful, Merlin found out. There was mention of ‘special powers’ and the Sight in the book, along with several mentions of the key rituals and holidays that the Druids celebrated.  
  
After the third mention of a ‘virgin’ in the book, Merlin slammed the cover closed and glared at it. Arthur ignored him. If only he could find something _helpful_.  
  
A gust of wind swept through the room, cooling the sweat on the back of their necks and making pages flutter. A book fell with a _thud_ from the high shelf of a bookcase.  
  
Merlin reached out to pick it up and his breath hitched.  
  
 _A Book of Magick Spells_  
  
Merlin swallowed hard and began strategizing the best way to sneak the book out of the library without Arthur noticing.  
  
It was a thin book, but Arthur still noticed.  
  
“Ow,” said Merlin belatedly when Arthur tried to poke him in the stomach, but hit the book instead.  
  
Arthur shrugged and pulled out the history book that he had somehow hidden in the waistband of his jeans.  
  
“How?” Merlin trailed off, deciding he didn’t want to know. “Never mind.”  
  
Arthur snorted. “We are a pair of thieves.”  
  
“We’re going to give them back!” Merlin said, outraged.  
  
“I think borrowing without permission still counts as stealing,” Arthur told him dryly.  
  
Merlin pushed him into a parking meter.  
  
Hiding under the covers that night (it’s always safer under there) Merlin cracked open the book. It was handwritten and missing the telltale library stamps on the inside.  
  
This was more than just sacrificing cats and virgins dancing naked in the moonlight, Merlin realized. It even had _theory_ of magic.  
  
For instance, to complete a spell, you could just incant the words, but making it powerful involved herbs and pendants, more spellcasters, coinciding with the moon’s waning, special holidays, and ‘holy spots’ in the earth.  
  
It was fascinating.  
  
Skimming through the pronunciation guide, Merlin turned to a very simple spell, Árísan.  
  
Peeling the blanket off his head, his eyes wandered around the room, looking for something to try it on.  
  
Focusing on one of his shoes by the door, he whispered, “ _Árísan_.”  
  
Nothing happened. His eyes didn’t turn hot, he didn’t feel that zing of energy coursing through his body, and the shoe didn’t move.  
  
Feeling chastised and foolish, he slammed the book shut and dropped it on the floor. _Árísan_ , he thought disgustedly and slammed his head into the pillow.  
  
He dreamed of the cave that night. And the passageway. Arthur laughing underneath him, breathless and smiling, reaching up to frame Merlin’s face with his hands. He dreamed every object in his room was floating two inches in the air. He dreamed that the thunking of the furniture woke him up.  
  
In the morning, his bed was two inches to the left from what it had been before he went to sleep.  
  
 _Árísan_ , he thought spitefully at the curtains. They waved back at him cheekily in the breeze coming from the open window.  
  
Hunith must have opened it during the night. She knew Merlin liked the sea breeze and the sound of the crashing waves.  
  
He picked up the book of spells and continued reading.  
  
The sudden blinding sunshine and good weather kept them outdoors and sunburnt for almost a week.  
  
Merlin even cajoled Arthur into going back to the cave. Arthur felt much better this time.  
  
“This was probably where Las Druidas held some sort of rituals,” Merlin muttered, pacing around the rock in the center of the chamber. “Aredian’s ledger mentioned las cuevas, the caves, remember?”  
  
Arthur looked annoyed. “I do. It doesn’t necessarily mean this cave though.”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “As good a place as any other.” He hopped up to perch on the edge of the rock, swinging his legs back and forth. His light t-shirt did little to ward off the cold coming off of the cave walls. “The altar is an amplifier. When joined in hands around the altar, the spellcasters’ strength can combine with the forces in the rock and grow.”  
  
Arthur shot him a funny look from where he was lying on the moss floor, hands curled behind his head. “Did you read that entire book?”  
  
Merlin lifted one shoulder. “Maybe,” he admitted. “It’s interesting. And I bet you’ve read all of the history book.”  
  
Arthur grinned. “Aredian was mentioned again- Jonathon, I mean. Apparently he died very violently in a duel. It was very exciting. Like _The Count of Monte Cristo_.”  
  
“I sincerely doubt that you’ve read that book,” Merlin said dryly. “But,” he held up a hand to stave off Arthur’s protests, “I’ll take your word for it.”  
  
Arthur nudged his calf with a bare toe, but seemed too lazy to say anything more.  
  
 _Árísan_ , Merlin thought to the pebble near his foot. The wind picked up and blew the spare leaves around him instead.  
  
Arthur grumbled under his breath. “Okay, I may like sports and stuff, but that doesn’t mean that I’m an unwashed savage.”  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying that everyone who hasn’t read _The Count of Monte Cristo_ is an unwashed savage? So posh.” Merlin sniffed and poked at Arthur with a toe.  
  
“Oi, you!” Arthur grabbed onto his toe and tugged. “Shut it.”  
  
Merlin lay back on the stone. “Why do I hang out with you again?” he wondered idly, placing his hands behind his head.  
  
Merlin couldn’t see his face, but he knew that Arthur was smirking. “Because I am amazing. Also I’m your next door neighbor and everyone else on this island is over the age of 35.”  
  
“Oh. I suppose that makes sense,” Merlin rolled his eyes, setting his head back on the stone to feel the sunlight on his face.  
  
“And also my house has a secret passageway and I’m awesome at making sandwiches and just generally a good person to be around,” Arthur’s voice was obnoxious in the cave, bouncing slightly off the walls.  
  
“You just keep telling yourself that Arthur,” Merlin said sleepily. He sighed. The stone wasn’t particularly comfortable, but the sun was warm on his face and the light breeze was keeping the sweat from beading on his skin.  
  
“Hmph.”  
  
Merlin giggled, trying to picture the look on Arthur’s face. “You’re really a piece of work, did you know that Arthur?”  
  
A hand grabbed Merlin’s ankle and tugged gently. “Well you’re hanging out with me so what does that make you?”  
  
Merlin snickered. “A saint,” he pronounced.  
  
“And to think I was going to ask Father if you could come with us to Las Palmas to celebrate my birthday,” Arthur sniffed. “But since obviously we’re only pity friends, I suppose you don’t have to come with.”  
  
Merlin sat up. “Arthur.” He laid a palm over the hand on his ankle. “We’re friends. You shared your cigars and secret passageways with me and I’m attempting to make you learn Spanish. There. Friends. God you’re needy.”  
  
Arthur squeezed his ankle and smiled brightly up at him. “Want to come to Las Palmas with me and my parents in a week? We can go to all the nice clubs and order expensive drinks at the hotel and make Father buy us lobster. Or we could just sit by the pool and order room service.” Arthur shrugged and bit his lip.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ll go with you, you big numpty. Stop looking so worried.”  
  
Arthur scowled at him, pushing on his foot a bit before letting go. Without saying anything, he lay back down on the moss, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.  
  
Merlin tried to put his foot in his face, but his legs weren’t long enough. Sighing, he leaned back on the rock and shut his eyes, deciding that if Arthur wasn’t going to talk to him, then he might as well take a nap.  
  
\---  
  
Arthur had been looking forward to going to Las Palmas- the capital of the biggest island- ever since Uther had mentioned it to him. Turning 18 was a big thing in the Pendragon house, for then Arthur’s trust fund would kick in. Well, the first of many.  
  
The Pendragons were, and it wasn’t exaggerating if it was true, grossly rich. Arthur’s grandfather had invented, like, air, or something. Actually it was something to do with early computers and electronics, that was way too technical and over Arthur’s head, but he’d made a mint in the 50s and had used it to invest in the stock market and it soon grew into Pendragon Enterprises with Capital Letters and while Arthur wasn’t particularly rich, he could be. Someday.  
  
Anyway, Uther wanted to spend some of this  money on their vacation, and was chafing at the small town community of the island, itching to get out to a proper country club where there were smoking rooms. And things. Arthur didn’t really understand it very well.  
  
So he’s glad Merlin can come along. That Uther offered that Merlin could come along. Especially since there would probably be less people that spoke English. Uther had pretty good Spanish communication skills and Igraine was almost fluent, but Arthur was completely rubbish no matter how much Merlin tried to work with him.  
  
Oh well. Que será, será. And whatever. Arthur didn’t really understand what that phrase meant, but Merlin used it all the time.  
  
A week later they were leaning against the railing of the main ferry, sharing a packet of chips, bags packed and stored below.

 

  


  


  
  
Merlin was leaning just a bit too far over the rail.  
  
“You’re going to get another sunburn if you lean out that far,” Arthur commented dryly, plucking a chip out of Merlin’s hands. Merlin’s neck and shoulders had turned a vivid red in the sun two days ago, documenting the many hours they had spent out in the surf, taking turns riding in on the red and gold surfboard that Arthur had found in the basement.  
  
Merlin made a face at him but leaned back in. “It’s fun to watch the water,” he explained.  
  
Arthur sighed. “Just don’t fall overboard please. Then I’d have to jump in and save you. I wouldn’t particularly enjoy that.”  
  
“I can swim!” Merlin scoffed. Arthur rolled his eyes and Merlin stuck out his tongue at him, turning back to the packet of chips. “Happy early birthday, by the way,” he said.  
  
Arthur looked down at the swirling ocean passing by. “Thanks,” he muttered. “At least now I can drink legally here.”  
  
“Didn’t stop you before.” Arthur looked up at him and Merlin shrugged.  
  
“I’ll buy you a beer tonight so you don’t feel left out, okay?” he teased.  
  
Arthur squinted at him in the sunlight, studying the way the curls at the back of his neck contrasted with his burnt skin. He almost missed Merlin’s next words.  
  
“Tomorrow you’ll be the big birthday boy, and I’m sure all the girls in the clubs will want to buy you shots and coo over you.”  
  
Arthur frowned at him and said, “Coo?” instead of what he wanted to say (“Girls?”). He would have to leave that comment for another time.  
  
Merlin scoffed. “Please, have you looked in a mirror and seen your jawline and your baby blues? God, they’ll be all over you. All _¿quiere bailar?_ and that shit. And if they do ask you if you want to dance,” Merlin pointed at him, “you say _sí_ and then try to cha cha. Not badly, at least.”  
  
“Errr,” Arthur thought wildly of his last dance lesson. His mother had enrolled him in a short ballroom course at the country club. It hadn’t gone well. Apparently it’s possible to have three left feet.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’m not teaching you how to dance. Never mind, just shake your hips. You have a nice enough ass.” Merlin craned his neck a bit and leered.  
  
“Oi!” Arthur clamped his hands down on the back of his jeans. “Eyes off the ass!”  
  
Merlin shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”  
  
Arthur pouted and turned his back to the ocean, hiding his “nice enough” ass from Merlin’s view. He couldn’t help but checking out Merlin’s ass. Which he had seen before, of course, but...  
  
“Stop looking at my ass,” Merlin’s voice was muffled by a mouthful of chips. “I have a nice, girl-attracting ass too. It will be a wonderful time.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes and refrained from mentioning anything involving putting his foot up Merlin’s ass.  
  
Father had of course, gone and rented them rooms at one of the nicest hotels in Las Palmas, but only with a double room.  
  
Apparently there was a festival going on in town.  
  
“It’s only for sleeping,” Uther looked annoyed at the concierge more than anything else.  
  
Arthur nodded. “We’ll have to spend most of our time at the pool.”  
  
“And me at the spa!” Igraine laughed, pushing her sunglasses up.  
  
The room was actually pretty big for a double, with a kitchenette and living room suite, the bedroom through a door to the right.  
  
“Arthur can sleep on the couch if you feel uncomfortable,” Igraine patted Merlin’s shoulder sympathetically.  
  
Merlin just shrugged.  
  
“Mum!” Arthur protested.  
  
“Merlin is the guest here, Arthur!”  
  
“We’re all guests here! It’s a hotel!”  
  
“We can share, Mrs. Pendragon,” Merlin cut in. “It’s fine. I’m sure Arthur doesn’t kick that much in his sleep.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Let’s go exploring,” he said, determinedly changing the subject.  
  
Clutching their embossed key cards, the boys headed back down the mirror lined elevator again, letting themselves out at the lobby, which was full of dark wood and brass panelings.  
  
There was a sign for _Piscina_ on the wall and they wound their way through the corridors until it opened up into a sizable pool area with two freshwater pools, one saltwater, and a jacuzzi on the side. The day was sweltering, so it was full of people in brightly colored swimsuits.  
  
Merlin stopped in his tracks. “Must be nice having money,” he commented. He grimaced. “Well, lots of it. We have money. Just not, you know, lots of it.”  
  
Arthur put a hand on his lower back and pushed him forward. “Let’s go check out the sauna and spa now Merlin, and try to keep your eyes in their sockets please.”  
  
It wasn’t hard to decide what to do that night. The hotel had its own bar and small club, but it was mostly populated by the type of people that could afford the hotel. Read: old people and stuck up rich kids.  
  
“But you are a stuck up rich kid!” Merlin teased. Arthur pouted at him. He never saw himself that way, so he always assumed other people didn’t either.  
  
“Okay let’s go to the club down the street,” Merlin sighed. “The concierge recommended it to me. Said it was called La Isla, or something, and that beers are two for one after 10pm and the bartenders speak English.”  
  
Uther and Igraine were apparently having dinner in the five star hotel restaurant and meeting some of Uther’s colleagues while they were there, so it worked out perfectly.  
  
“We might even see you in some of the clubs!” Igraine laughed while Uther went slightly green and looked alarmed. She patted him on the cheek. “It’s time to dust off your salsa, dear.”  
  
“My dear, I believe that they merengue here,” Uther said, with a frown.  
  
“We’ll switch off,” Igraine promised him.  
  
Arthur turned to Merlin and tried to convey with wide eyes that he did not, in fact, know these people, and for no reason at all were they going to see and acknowledge each other in some of the clubs.  
  
Merlin just laughed at him, the traitor.  
  
They found themselves at La Isla just as night was falling and already the place was hopping with tourists and natives alike.  
  
“Come on,” Merlin shouted over the pulsing beat. “I’ll buy you a tequila shot.” Towing Arthur over to the bar, he ordered in rapid Spanish before handing over a shot glass with a lime perched on the rim.  
  
“Bottoms up,” Arthur said, wincing at the burn as he downed the shot and bit at the lime.  
  
“Yech,” said Merlin, spitting out a lime seed. “I hate tequila. It always goes to my head.”  
  
He grabbed Arthur’s shotglass out of his hand and plunked both of them on the bar. “Let’s dance!” he said, towing Arthur onto the floor by the wrist.  
  
The crush of people on the dance floor immediately swallowed them whole and Arthur’s body automatically picked up the beat.  
  
“Told you you had hips!” Merlin yelled and then started singing along to the music as they danced across from each other.  
  
Arthur couldn’t understand the lyrics, or even the majority of the people who were talking around him, but he just concentrated on the pulse of the bass and trying not to elbow someone in the kidneys.  
  
Merlin was surprisingly a good dancer, his clumsiness turning into a kind of grace when put to music, and soon he was chatting with a blonde girl to his left, shouting to be heard over the music.  
  
Arthur felt a bit lost for a moment until a brunette with a large amount of eyeliner sidled up to him, her hips gyrating to the beat.  
  
“Comó le va?” she shouted at him and smiled.  
  
“Qué?” Arthur tried to ask, but ended up shaking his head instead. “No hablo español. Lo siento?”  
  
The girl laughed and shook her head. “Está bien!” she shouted back. “Bailar?”  
  
Relieved to hear a word he recognized, Arthur nodded. “Sí!”  
  
And then she was practically in his arms and grinding up on him, but her feet were moving and Arthur thought it was a salsa but he couldn’t be sure. He just kept moving his feet and trying to twirl her through some half-remembered moves when she got too close.  
  
Sorry, he wanted to tell her. You’re kind of barking up the wrong tree. But Spaniards were flirty and loved to dance. If only Arthur were better at leading and, just girls in general, really.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin, however, was having a wonderful time. He didn’t know many of the steps outside of a simple merengue, but after he explained this laughingly, his partners were fine with either him merengue-ing them around in circles, or just sticking to simple hips and twirls.  
  
Eventually the last girl moved on, and he was able to search for Arthur in the crowd.  
  
He was smiling awkwardly at a girl and heading towards the bar when Merlin finally spotted him.  
  
“Hey!” he called, grabbing Arthur’s elbow as he caught up. “How was your dance?”  
  
“Fine,” Arthur shrugged. He was sweating and had rolled up his button down to the elbows. “Hot though. Fancy a beer?”  
  
Merlin brightened. “Sure! You buying?”  
  
Arthur laughed, and the awkward look on his face softened and disappeared. “I seem to remember you promising me a beer, but I can get this round.”  
  
Merlin felt a little twinge in his stomach that felt a little like pride when Arthur walked up to the bar and confidently said, “Dos cervezas por favor.”  
  
“De la casa?” the bartender shouted back and Arthur looked alarmedly back at Merlin who jumped into the conversation.  
  
“Sí, está bien.”  
  
The beer was bitter, but smooth going down Merlin’s throat, making him grin as he wiped the foam off his face. “Do you want to find a table or dance some more?”  
  
Arthur clutched at his beer. “Let’s take a break!”  
  
It was marginally quieter at the tables, not much, but enough to hold conversations that weren’t just screaming in each other’s ears.  
  
They found a little two person table and sat, nursing their bottles and watching the dance floor.  
  
“Where’d you learn how to dance?” Merlin asked, just to see Arthur’s eyes light up as he described being forced to go to the country club by his mother.  
  
Just as Arthur was pausing to take a drink, a blonde girl bounced up to their table.  
  
“Hola!” she said, in a mangled English accent. “Como le va?”  
  
“Hi,” Merlin laughed. “We’re good. Estamos bien. Y usted?”  
  
The girl looked confused. Merlin shook his head. “Never mind. Did you want a seat?”  
  
“Sure!” the girl immediately brightened and sat down. “I’m Vivian, by the way.” She was carrying a very pink drink.  
  
“I’m Merlin, and this is Arthur,” Merlin offered, since Arthur was currently being rude and draining his pint.  
  
“Cool!” Vivian beamed. “Are you two on vacation here too?”  
  
“We’re just visiting the island.” Arthur finally said something. “We’re actually staying on a different island.”  
  
“Thank god I found other English speakers,” she gushed. “My Spanish is rather horrible.” She batted her eyelashes and touched Arthur’s arm, as if to make a point.  
  
Well, she made it. Even Merlin could pick up the mad flirting eyes.  
  
“So,” god she was extremely perky, “do you want to dance?”  
  
Arthur, strangely, looked over at Merlin. Merlin gave him a questioning look and nodded encouragingly at the dance floor.  
  
“Sure,” Arthur finally said, leading her out to the floor where they tried to dance as least awkwardly as possible.  
  
Leaving Merlin to abandon their empty glasses and find another native to teach him more merengue. Which he was fine with.  
  
An hour, maybe two had passed before he realized that he hadn’t seen Arthur in a while. “Necesito buscar mi amigo,” he said to the girl he was with, and she nodded and waved goodbye to him.  
  
He found Arthur with Vivian on the edge of the table section, with drinks in their hands and chatting, but Merlin didn’t miss the way Arthur breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted him.  
  
“How’s it going?” Merlin asked, and stole Arthur’s drink for a sip. Some sort of fruity rum mixture.  
  
“Do you mind if we go?” Arthur asked carefully, hands curling into fists without the rum to occupy them. “I have a headache coming on and the music is bothering me. We should probably head back in early anyway. Big day tomorrow and all.”  
  
Merlin handed him back his drink. “Do you want to get some fresh air, or go back to the hotel?”  
  
“Hotel,” Arthur said immediately, eyes glinting. Merlin raised his eyebrows. Vivian was fluttering around Arthur sympathetically.  
  
“You poor dear,” she simpered at him. “Here, why don’t we exchange numbers so we can meet up, you know, so we can talk and understand each other?”  
  
Arthur seemed apologetic, but his teeth were gritted. “Sorry, don’t have my cell phone with me. We get shitty reception on the island so I’ve gotten in the habit of not using it.”  
  
“We’re at Reina Isabel,” Merlin chimed in, “in case you’re in the area.”  
  
Vivian smiled at him. Arthur didn’t look happy. In fact, Arthur looked downright miserable. And petulant.  
  
“So, we’ll see you around, okay?” Merlin smiled at her and tugged Arthur away by the elbow.  
  
“What’s up?” he asked as they walked out into the street, the sounds of cars sounding tinny after the club.  
  
Arthur frowned. “Just wasn’t feeling it,” he mumbled.  
  
Merlin stared at him, hard. “You seemed to be doing fine when Vivian first dragged you off. Did something happen?”  
  
Arthur grimaced. “Not really. She bought me a blowjob, you know, the shot. And that was kind of awkward, but, it wasn’t _horrible_.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes as they walked into the hotel lobby. “Was she offending your posh boy sensibilities? Oh poor baby.”  
  
Arthur was quiet as they went into the elevator, just stabbing the six and watching the doors close.  
  
“Though you did get a free shot out of it. Look at you! You had plenty of drinks bought for you tonight.” He elbowed Arthur in the ribs and grinned. “Birthday boy!”  
  
Arthur chewed on his lip and attempted a smile that came out as more of a grimace. “Easy on the wallet at least.”  
  
Merlin didn’t understand his silence as they walked down the hallway to their room. Igraine and Uther were still out, by the looks of it. Merlin flicked on the TV, trying to cut the suddenly awkward silence, but could only find news channels in Spanish. He clicked it off again.  
  
Arthur collected his stuff and disappeared into the bathroom. Frustrated, Merlin stripped down to his boxers, leaving his cigarette-smelling clothing in a heap next to his bag. He yanked on an old t-shirt and pajama bottoms, and pulled out his toothbrush.  
  
“You know,” he told Arthur as he walked out of the bathroom, “you could have pulled her if you wanted to. I would have fucked off for a little while, as long as, you know, you didn’t defile our bed or something.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Go brush your teeth,” he said. He sounded angry.  
  
Merlin tried not to take too long in the bathroom, worried about Arthur’s mood, but Arthur was curled up on his side of the bed when he walked out.  
  
“Turn out the light,” Arthur muttered and hid underneath his pillow.  
  
Frowning, Merlin did and crawled under the covers.  
  
“I really wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to cop off with her,” Merlin whispered into the darkness.  
  
“Merlin, just drop it,” Arthur said in a tight voice.  
  
"But that was the perfect opportunity Arthur!" Merlin said fiercely. "We don't really have to get up in the morning you know. We didn't have to come back so early."  
  
Arthur was silent, curled up in a ball on the other side of the bed. Merlin propped himself up on one elbow. "Seriously, Arthur. Why the cold shoulder all of a sudden? You were just saying how boring the island can get at night with only the pensioners. Well, now we're off the island, there's people our age, we get to go to a night of clubbing with girls, and you want to sleep! I could be having fun and getting drunk right now, but instead I'm stuck in a crummy bed with you!"  
  
"Thanks," Arthur bit out harshly. "I didn't know you were so tired of my company that we needed to run off to shady clubs with dubious scantily clad girls."  
  
Merlin flopped back down, stung. "Maybe that would have put you in a better mood," he mumbled angrily. "Find yourself a nice girl to snog, get a couple of pints in you, actually have a nightlife that doesn't consist of small talk with your parents and your Xbox?"  
  
Merlin could swear he heard Arthur's teeth grinding from halfway across the bed. "Maybe my idea of a good night out doesn't involve snogging random girls and following them out of shady clubs!" he gritted out.  
  
Merlin frowned. "I dunno, mate. It sounds like you could use a couple of snogs. You're so uptight! What is wrong with you?"  
  
"What is wrong with me?" Arthur sputtered and choked on the words.  
  
"Yeah," Merlin said defensively. "You were just fine until we got here, and then you-"  
  
Merlin was cut off when Arthur's weight suddenly landed on top of him, driving the breath out of him as Arthur mashed his lips against his, stubble scraping roughly against his chin, roughly shoving his tongue in his mouth before biting Merlin's bottom lip hard. Merlin made a muffled sound of pain.  
  
Arthur pulled away, " _Me entiendes?_ " he breathed harshly against Merlin's lips before rolling off of Merlin and retreating to his huddle on the other side of the bed. Stunned, Merlin pressed a finger to his stinging lips, tasting blood.  
  
\----  
  
  
Arthur's heart beat wildly as he retreated back into a protective ball. He didn't know why he'd just done that, but Merlin hadn't understood. He didn't get it. And now he had ruined everything and Merlin wasn't going to want to be his friend or do stupid things on the beach and then Arthur really would spend his summer on his Xbox.  
  
"Ow," came a small voice behind him and Arthur's guilt swamped him again. He turned over on his side to see Merlin glaring at the ceiling and rubbing his chin. "You are an _idiot_ , Arthur," he whispered fiercely.  
  
"I-" the words caught in Arthur's throat and a sick feeling took up residence in his stomach.  
  
"Shut up, you prat," Merlin warned and turned towards the wall. "Shut up or I'm going to kick you out of this bed."  
  
"It's my bed!" Arthur snapped and winced. He should be apologizing instead of making even more of an ass out of himself.  
  
"Well I'm very close to kicking you off of it you massive, TWAT," Merlin shot back.  
  
"You would kick me off the bed because I'm _gay_?" Arthur demanded, and the sick feeling started to claw its way up his throat.  
  
Merlin gave a huff of frustration and turned to face Arthur. "No, I'd kick you off the bed because you're a massive pillock with no manners that can't express his own feelings and makes everyone around him miserable because of it!" With a pointed glare, Merlin turned away from him again.  
  
"Oh," Arthur said in a small voice, anger and panic slipping away from him. He chewed on his lip. "I'm sorry Merlin," he said softly.  
  
Merlin sighed. "Shut up and go to sleep," he said quietly. The, "All you had to do was tell me," was muffled slightly by the pillow as he turned his head into it.  
  
Arthur lay there, listening to Merlin's breathing slow and even out, feeling the hurt and anger from that day slowly bleed out of his body as he tipped over the edge into sleep.  
  
Arthur knew that the next morning was going to be cripplingly awkward but he wasn’t prepared to wake up with Merlin’s sleeping face next to his.  
  
Moving back away from the morning breath, Arthur sat up slowly and climbed out of bed.  
  
Quickly gathering clothes, he took a hot shower, soaping away the sweat and nicotine residue from the previous night.  
  
He had been a right bastard to Merlin. A little bit drunk and inexplicably hurt that Merlin was just going for a pull, he’d lashed out, hurt Merlin, and fuck, almost ruined a friendship.  
  
Arthur knew he didn’t fit the popular gay stereotype. He wasn’t particularly effeminate and lacked even the most basic fashion sense.  
  
He liked sports, all kinds of sports, and all the facets of sports, especially the sweaty men in clingy material.  
  
He may not have been attracted to girls, but he was still uncomfortable around them. With his friends he could punch them on the arm, go old buddy, old pal, and then talk about football for half an hour. Add in some beers and some Call of Duty, and Arthur was good to go.  
  
Girls though, ugh. They had awkward curves and would bat their eyelashes and ooze up to him in clubs and demand that he buy them drinks.  
  
And he liked Merlin. He really did. Merlin didn’t take his crap and gave back as good as he got.  
  
Merlin was smart and funny. And he was adventurous and sweet. He got into things easily, like the magick book that they had found. He was fascinating, more so than just his ridiculous ears and easy grin. But the way he rolled his r’s when he spoke Spanish. Or the casual way he joked with everyone, in either language, smiling and using hand gestures when his vocabulary failed. He had a confidence that Arthur had to fake, to cover with bluster and a thick layer of being a bastard to everyone.  
  
God, Arthur had royally fucked this one up.  
  
He was still toweling his hair dry when he checked up on Merlin (still sleeping), and his parents (also still sleeping). Finding nothing else to do, he flicked on the TV and immediately set the volume low so he could think.  
  
He hadn’t sat there twenty minutes before a sleepy looking Merlin wandered in, hair stuck up in the back. He curled up on the opposite end of the couch and probably started reading the subtitles flashing across the screen in Spanish.  
  
"Good morning," he said in a scratchy voice. Arthur couldn't see his face from where he was sitting.  
  
"Morning," Arthur said softly, hesitant.  
  
"You're a prat," was all Merlin mumbled. Arthur bit his lip.  
  
"I'm sorry. I know I'm a prat. I'm working on it."  
  
Merlin rubbed at his eyes before peeking out at him between his fingers. “A prat in progress?” he asked slowly.  
  
Arthur nodded. “I’m still sort of, er, figuring myself out,” he confessed. “Coming to term with, you know, life, the universe. Stuff.”  
  
Merlin lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “That makes sense, I guess. Still doesn’t excuse you from being a prat though.”  
  
Arthur winced. “I know, I really do. It’s just hard for me to,” he paused. “Trust people, I guess.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “You can trust me,” he said softly. “I promise.”  
  
Arthur smiled in spite of himself. “Thanks, Merlin.” He swallowed. “That, um, that means a lot to me.”  
  
Merlin shook his head and rolled his eyes, turning back to the TV for a moment. “By the way, happy birthday you prat.”  
  
Arthur grinned. “You still owe me a beer!” he said brightly.  
  
Merlin turned his face up to the ceiling, shaking his head as his lips traced out the word, “Prat.”  
  
Arthur's parents were surprised to find them awake and puzzling over the TV when they emerged two hours later. Merlin had taken a shower before they went down to raid the Continental breakfast that the hotel offered, his hair still curling wetly against his neck as they searched for English TV channels that weren't news.  
  
"Morning Mum, Dad," Arthur said, waving.  
  
"Good morning Arthur," said Uther. "I was surprised to see you came in before us last night. Didn't find a good club?"  
  
"Something like that," Merlin chirped cheerfully before stealing the remote away from Arthur.  
  
"Well after last night I will be spending the day at the spa," Igraine said, not quite sounding awake, but still sounding posh. "I need a good foot massage after three hours of straight dancing."  
  
"I may join you after a quick sauna," Uther mused. They left to go enjoy breakfast after scolding them to go out and enjoy the day.  
  
Arthur turned to Merlin, who was concentrating on some kind of telenovela. "Pool?" he asked.  
  
Merlin turned off the TV and tossed the remote away. "I thought you'd never ask."  
  
The pool wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been the afternoon before; apparently all the guests were sleeping off their hangovers, because the majority of the people they did see were hiding behind thick black sunglasses, shielding their eyes from the bright and cheery sunlight.  
  
"We need to get drunker tonight," Merlin commented as he applied a layer of sunscreen. "We're not living the life, Arthur!"  
  
"I'm going to push you into the pool," Arthur warned him.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'm getting you drunk tonight if I have to drag you into every bar on the island."  
  
"So you're going to finally get me that beer?" Arthur asked brightly.  
  
"Be quiet Pendragon," Merlin told him, pointing a finger in his face. "You're going to have fun tonight or I'll know why."  
  
Arthur looked at him carefully. "I'm going to hold that to you Emrys."  
  
\---  
  
Despite their rough time the night before, Merlin was having fun hanging out by the pool with Arthur, though they didn't get that much swimming done. After swimming and surfing in an ocean and enjoying the push-pull of the waves, doing laps around a swimming pool sounded very unappealing.  
  
"This way I get chlorine in my eyes instead of salt," Merlin complained, prompting Arthur to threaten to push him into the pool again.  
  
Merlin hastily declined his offer, and instead the two people-watched while basking in the bright sunshine and lying on their pool chairs. Arthur was looking particularly suave in aviator sunglasses while Merlin was sporting his precious Ray-Bands.  
  
Merlin wasn't nearly as picturesque as the tanned, trim Arthur, as he was mostly comprised of skinny white limbs, but he could still enjoy the pretty young things wandering around the pool, finally emerging from their hungover sleeps to lounge around in various stages of undress.  
  
"Stop cringing!" Merlin said sharply, hitting Arthur as another girl wearing dental floss for a swimsuit walked by. "You don't have to be straight to appreciate perfection!"  
  
Arthur groaned and covered his face. "I could see the surgery scars from here!" he hissed.  
  
"Just be lucky they don't sunbathe topless here," Merlin advised him. "You'd probably go blind or something."  
  
Arthur wordlessly pointed to his right, and sure enough, there was a group of girls laying themselves out to tan without tanlines. Probably more safety in numbers or something.  
  
"Ah, well," Merlin muttered, feeling himself turn pink. The sun was very hot, wasn't it? "You mentioned room service by the pool, right? I think I could go for a cold drink right about now."  
  
Arthur was laughing at him as Merlin beckoned over a waiter, flashing his room card as he ordered in rapid Spanish. He ordered them both soft drinks, and then just to make Arthur uncomfortable, went on to question the friendly waiter on the popular clubs in the area.  
  
He made sure to throw in just enough flirting to get his point across, soon earning him the names of several clubs that catered to more than just the touristy type.  
  
"Muchas gracias," he smiled, laughing when the young man winked.  
  
Arthur was quiet until their drinks arrived, this time accompanied by a smiling young lady.  
  
Merlin handed Arthur his drink, finally getting Arthur to acknowledge him again. "So what's your deal with clubs?"  
  
"What?" Arthur asked distractedly, fiddling with his aviators.  
  
"Why don't you like them? Booze, beer, dancing?"  
  
Arthur frowned at him and played with his straw. "I like the alcohol and the whole atmosphere," he said uncomfortably. "But the dancing, not so much."  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes as Arthur took a long sip of his drink. "Why not?" he prodded.  
  
Arthur made a face and set his drink down. "Merlin, the dancing is never fun because I never get to dance with who I want to dance with. As you already know, I'm pants at dancing, and having scantily clad girls grinding on me is kind of at the bottom of my list of things I want."  
  
"Hmm," Merlin hummed, and took a long sip of his drink. "Have you ever actually asked a guy to dance with you in a club?"  
  
Arthur shook his head. "I've only ever gone out with my footie friends," he confessed. "The places we go, the girls are very aggressive. And the majority of the guys are looking for a pull of the female persuasion."  
  
Merlin rubbed at his face, setting his drink to the side. "Arthur, have you even come out to your footie friends at home at all?"  
  
Arthur scowled at him. "I've told Kay. He's my best mate." He paused. "And I really shouldn't have to, especially if I don't want to. I'm still figuring things out myself," he said defensively.  
  
"Woah, woah." Merlin held his hands palm up. "Wasn't suggesting to tell you how to live your life. Just wondering."  
  
"Fine," Arthur said grumpily. He adjusted his position on his pool chair.  
  
"So tonight when we go clubbing, we have to find blokes for you to dance with," Merlin said decidedly, picking up his drink. "So you have fun."  
  
"Sure, whatever," Arthur sighed, tilting his head backwards to catch some rays, exposing a long line of neck that made Merlin swallow suddenly. He didn't exactly have a crush on Arthur.  
  
He was just admiring. A lot.  
  
"It's going to be the best birthday ever!" he assured Arthur, arranging his limbs on the chair to get the best of the rays that were only going to bounce off his sunscreen, ignoring Arthur's mutterings.  
  
"Yes, that's what I'm afraid of."  
  
Sunset found them wandering down the street, dressed for bar hopping and determined to have a good time. Merlin's skin was buzzing pleasantly from excitement and also the tequila shots that they had in the hotel bar before setting out for the evening.  
  
"Pick a club, any club," Merlin spread his hands out wide. "I'm going to buy you that beer."  
  
"I thought you had this all planned out?" Arthur said incredulously.  
  
Merlin giggled. (He had no head for tequila.) "I do, but there are literally a dozen clubs just on this street and we have to start somewhere."  
  
Looking around critically, Arthur pointed at the one to their left, which wasn't exactly overflowing with people. "That one."  
  
Merlin shrugged and dragged him inside. It was filled with a pounding beat and a modest amount of people, lit only by strobe lights and a soft glow originating from the bar. Merlin bought them both house beers, clinking their bottles before challenging Arthur to a drinking race.  
  
Arthur, of course, declined, so they simply people watched while sipping at their beers.  
  
It was a younger crowd in this club, but more subdued than where they had gone last night. A lot less touristy.  
  
"Do you want to dance here or move on?" Merlin asked as they were getting to the ends of their beers. "I have plans for tonight, but we can hang out for awhile if you want."  
  
Arthur shrugged and took a sip.  
  
"You're the birthday boy," Merlin said cheerfully, draining his bottle and leaving it on the bar for a bartender to whisk it away.  
  
Arthur frowned at him, apparently not appreciating the nickname. "This looks like a nice crowd but I don't want to mess up your plan of attack."  
  
"Well if you can't decide if you like it here we're leaving," Merlin decided, pulling Arthur's mostly empty drink away from him and finishing it in one swallow. "Let's go," he said, setting it down on the bar and towing Arthur out of the club by his hand.  
  
"My drink!" Arthur protested as he followed along willingly.  
  
"Oh stop whining. I bought it for you." Merlin stopped just outside the club to get his bearings before following the directions that the waiter had given him by the pool.  
  
Keeping his hold on Arthur, Merlin led them down the street to a purple lit bar called Avalon. Finally dropping Arthur's hand, they went inside.  
  
"Whatever you do, do not order the drink 'blowjob' here," Merlin instructed him, smiling a little. "Because you might actually get a real one."  
  
Arthur sputtered as Merlin made his way to the bar. The place was packed, but the crowd looked friendly and happy. The majority of them were carrying brightly coloured drinks and were dressed a little wildly.  
  
As he was ordering them both rum and cokes, Merlin could see when Arthur finally got it. "Merlin, did you bring me to a gay bar?" Arthur sounded a little outraged.  
  
"Oh, pipe down," Merlin chided, leaning on the bar as the bartender made them their drinks. "You'll definitely find someone to dance with here. The guy at the hotel recommended it to me because the people here are really nice." He winked at the bartender as she handed him their drinks. She was a black haired woman that had a lot of tattoos and piercings and smiled when Merlin told her to keep the change.  
  
Picking up their drinks, they found a small table near the back but not too near the loos.  
  
"Our goal is to get drunk tonight, remember?" Merlin said as Arthur sipped at his glass.  
  
Arthur made a face and took a healthy gulp. "Happy?" he asked, laughing a little.  
  
"Yes," Merlin smiled. "In fact, I am ecstatic."  
  
"I think you're also a little drunk," Arthur teased. "What, is three drinks your limit?"  
  
"Not hardly!" Merlin scoffed. "They were spaced out anyway. I am merely tipsy and you are clearly crazy."  
  
"No," Arthur said slyly. "I can hold my drink and make sound judgements."  
  
Merlin scoffed. "What's the fun in that?" he complained. "Come on, pick someone you want to dance with so we don't end up pissed before the night barely starts."  
  
Arthur surveyed the dancers around them, the people in booths, sitting at tables or at the bar. "How exactly am I supposed to ask someone to dance with me?" he muttered sullenly.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. "You walk up to them and say 'Would you like to dance?' It's really very simple Arthur. Now just choose someone you want to dance with."  
  
Arthur frowned and drained his drink. He stood up. "Would you like to dance with me?" he asked Merlin.  
  
Merlin nodded encouragingly. "Yes, that's exactly how you should say it."  
  
Arthur sighed. "I mean I want you to dance with me, Merlin."  
  
"Oh." Merlin frowned. "Are you sure? I mean, we came here so you could dance with other people but.. if that's what you want."  
  
"It is," Arthur said firmly, and held out his hand. "Dance?"  
  
Merlin downed the rest of his drink. "Let's go," he said, taking Arthur's hand and leading them out to the dance floor.  
  
The music was fast, the beat thumping through them from their feet on up, so they started out simple, with minimal actual dance steps and plenty of hip movements to the beat.  
  
As the music changed, they did too, moving into a few salsa steps, Merlin letting Arthur lead as their hands fell into the comfortable positions, except for Merlin occasionally guiding Arthur's hips with his hands, laughing as he maneuvered Arthur's hips into an easy rhythm.  
  
They were sweaty and grinning when they stopped for a drink break, both downing two tequila shots, apparently just enough liquid courage for Arthur to accept a dance from a dashing man with a wicked smile without blushing.  
  
Merlin found himself swept up with a curly-haired blond man who had a sly smile and soon bought him a colourful drink and wanted to know how long he was in town.  
  
Laughing, Merlin explained in Spanish that he was at the club with a mate for his birthday and that they were leaving the next day. The man (whose name was Edwin) pouted at this but insisted on dancing with Merlin and sending Arthur random drinks from the bar as they chatted.  
  
Arthur was pretty far gone when Merlin finally caught up with him. Apparently someone had let slip that it was his birthday and he'd found himself with plenty of congratulatory drinks and dance partners.  
  
"Hey Merlin!" Arthur grinned blissfully. "Dance with me?" He was slurring his words together, but he looked almost as coordinated as usual.  
  
"Only if I can finish your drink," Merlin answered, draining a tequila shot that was looking rather lonely. "I'm losing my buzz." He shook his head slightly as the alcohol pulsed through his system.  
  
"Hmm, I've had too many anyway, haven't I?" Arthur smiled serenely, pushing his half full drink at Merlin, who drank it in two gulps. It was coke and Jack and now Merlin could feel the tips of his fingers tingling.  
  
"One more dance!" Arthur crowed against his ear, pulling Merlin to his feet and away from the army of empty glasses on the table.  
  
Their steps were a lot more clumsy, more shuffling and clutching now that they were both truly pissed.  
  
Arthur was pressed close against him, partly jostled by the crush of people, and partly because Merlin was holding him there, hips just shy of grinding, Arthur's hand slipping into Merlin's back pocket more than once, tugging him closer.  
  
Arthur was very sweaty, one could say glistening, his hair plastered down. The multicoloured lights were playing with the lines of his face as he laughed, clumsily moving around the dance floor as the alcohol raced through their veins. Merlin’s fuzzy mind decided he looked way too attractive and kissable like that, finally relaxed and enjoying himself.  
  
They stumbled out into the street not very much later, deciding that they had had enough dancing and that they'd both do something daft if they continued drinking for much longer.  
  
Arthur claimed the loo first as they got back to their hotel room, dashing in before Merlin could call it.  
  
Once he was done, Merlin tried to muster up the will to get himself out of the spread eagle position on the bed to relieve the pressure on his bladder.  
  
Arthur had taken off his shirt and was looking damn snoggable, chest highlighted in the soft lamp glow, lips shiny and eyes happy. Merlin wanted to tug his fingers through his hair and yank him down.  
  
Instead he found the strength to haul himself in the bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time he came out, he was determined to do something about the way Arthur was looking all soft and pretty in the lamplight. **  
  
**But Merlin found the light off and Arthur snoring gently into his pillow. Typical.  
  
The trip back to their island wasn't very enjoyable for all of them. They had woken up late and barely had time to grab a quick brunch before catching their ferry. All four of them had managed to get hangovers, some handling it better than others. Arthur seemed to have inherited a grumpy morning after from Uther as they both nursed coffees through their sunglasses.  
  
Merlin and Igraine weren't doing quite that badly, but Merlin didn't really feel like talking.  
  
Luckily for him, no one really felt like listening anyway.  
  
The sun was being exceedingly cheerful and cruel, glinting off the water all around the ferry, making Merlin and Arthur stick to the inner deck as they shared a packet of crisps and attempted to nap on the vinyl seats.  
  
By the time their ferry was hooked up to the dock, Merlin was exhausted and dying for a bottle of water, a cold shower, and some paracetamol.  
  
He tiredly said his goodbyes and dragged himself into his house, promising Arthur that he would  come over as soon as he could drag himself out of bed the next day.  
  
\---  
  
Okay, maybe Arthur had overindulged a little bit the night before. But it had been his birthday after all, so Arthur felt he had an excuse. On top of that, Merlin had been  exceedingly wonderful and gorgeous under the flashing lights, flirting his way through the gay bar like he was made for it.  
  
An enigma, that's what Merlin was. Arthur face-planted into his pillow and then grinned.  
  
He had had a smashing good time, didn't he? Even if it had left him sore and with a terrible headache, he had loved every minute of it.  
  
Slurring his words as he chatted with the sweet boys, the flirty ones, the ones who had amazing hips and legs. Okay, Arthur hadn't danced with that many boys that night, but it felt like it.  
  
It had felt like a whirlwind ride of strobe lights and Jack and Coke and fingers pressing into his hips. It felt bloody amazing.  
  
The only thing missing, he thought tiredly, was a damn good snog at the end of the night. Or shag. Arthur wasn't too picky.  
  
Maybe if they hadn't had to go back to the hotel, if Arthur hadn't drunk so much that his legs had felt rubbery, if he'd danced closer to Merlin, or maybe if he just hadn't fallen asleep as soon as his face had hit the pillow that night...  
  
Thoughtfully, his fingers inched under the waistband of his boxers, not moving, just resting there.  
  
Maybe if Merlin hadn't looked so lovely in the dim, flashing light of the club, then Arthur could have focused on someone else, on how they would have felt under his fingertips.  
  
He rubbed his nose into his pillow, trying decide whether it was worth the effort of having a wank, pushing down with gentle pressure, testing.  
  
Arthur fell asleep like that, face pressed into his pillow, phantom fingers moving slowly down his cock.  
  
It was rather disorienting to wake up with his hands in his pants, but Arthur was the kind of person to roll with the punches, so he jumped in the shower first before getting rid of his morning hard-on.  
  
Merlin was sitting at the breakfast bar when Arthur trudged his way down the stairs, looking a lot better than he had looked yesterday.  
  
"Good morning," Merlin said cheerfully, munching on a slice of toast that he had probably helped himself to.  
  
"Morning." Arthur was surprised at himself for how cheerful he was. Sleep really did do wonders for a massive hangover.  
  
"Let's not drink that much any time soon, okay?" Merlin asked. "My liver kind of hates me today."  
  
Arthur snorted, shoving a piece of bread into the toaster. "And it didn't yesterday?"  
  
Merlin looked at him seriously. "Yesterday my head hated me too much for me to feel my liver."  
  
Arthur shrugged. "Fair enough."  
  
He was buttering his toast carefully when he finally worked up the courage to say, "Thank you for taking me out on my birthday. I had a really fun time."  
  
Merlin smirked at him. "By the way you were giggling in the lift and telling me that life was 'fucking awesome' I kind of assumed that. But you're welcome anyway."  
  
Arthur huffed. "That's not what I meant," he tried to say, but Merlin cut him off.  
  
"Why don't we go swimming today?"  
  
They decided to spent their day body-surfing, both having given up on the little red surf board, their balances being decidedly terrible.  
  
Arthur dragged out a pair of lawn chairs and an umbrella for them to sit under when they got tired.  
  
Merlin seemed his regular, friendly self, casually touching Arthur and bumping into him as usual. It confused him. At one point they were even wrestling around in the water, Merlin determined to dunk him under, scowling in frustration as Arthur laughingly held on to him.  
  
"We should sleep out in the cave one night," Merlin suggested to him idly as he flopped down on his chair, water dripping from his body. "Could be fun, you know."  
  
Arthur frowned at him. "Sounds like it could be cold, to me."  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Then we'll take sleeping bags or have to share body heat."  
  
"Er, wouldn't that make you uncomfortable?" Arthur was genuinely confused.  
  
"The rock could be kind of hard," Merlin mused, oblivious.  
  
Arthur bit at his lip, letting the silence grow as he chewed and thought.  
  
Merlin turned to him. "Something on your mind?"  
  
Arthur swallowed. "I really appreciate you taking me to that gay bar. I don't know if I would have had the guts to go on my own. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."  
  
Merlin snorted. "You didn't make me uncomfortable. Besides, you were having fun!"  
  
"Still, I feel bad that you were getting hit on all night by strange boys," Arthur trailed off as Merlin began to laugh.  
  
"You really are a bit clueless, aren't you?" Merlin asked, not unkindly. Arthur scowled at him.  
  
"I like boys," Merlin said slowly. Arthur blinked.  
  
"But you've always-"  
  
"I like girls too," Merlin cut him off.  
  
Something clicked into place in Arthur's brain. "Oh, so you're bi-"  
  
"I just like people!" Merlin hastily said over him.  
  
"So that makes you...?" Arthur squinted his eyes.  
  
"A people lover," Merlin said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I like nice people and fun people and pretty people."  
  
Arthur nodded his head and tried to appear as if he understood. Girls were, well, girls. "Well," he cleared his throat. "That's good to know."  
  
Merlin smiled, turning to face the ocean. "So being at the gay bar was in no way a hardship, okay?" He laughed a small laugh to himself. "In fact, I had a pretty good time myself."  
  
He was looking quite pleased with himself, happy even, but there was anger and a touch of humiliation brewing in Arthur's chest, so he cuffed Merlin on the back of the head.  
  
"Ow!" Merlin yelped, wincing and rubbing at his head. "What was that for?" he demanded.  
  
"For not telling me and making feel like an idiot by making fun of me!" Arthur retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling the irrational anger and frustration build.  
  
"I did not!" Merlin protested. "You just assumed things of me and I assumed things of you!"  
  
"You made me look like a complete plonker," Arthur insisted stubbornly.  
  
"Oi, I'm not the one who practically attacked my best friend in a strange sort of coming out," Merlin shot back. "And you _are_ a complete plonker."  
  
Arthur winced. That _had_ been really stupid. He felt his anger bleeding away as he realized that he was acting like a prat again. "I am really sorry about that," he told Merlin truthfully.  
  
Merlin waved a hand at him, already calmed down. "I already forgave you for that. Get over it, you big drama queen."  
  
Arthur frowned at him. "Okay, I'm sorry for hitting you. But you really did make me feel like an idiot. You should have told me."  
  
"And you should have told me," Merlin sighed. "I'm sorry for making you feel stupid though. I should have picked up on it. From now on we tell each other things, okay?"  
  
Arthur nodded, carefully. "Okay." He thought back over Merlin's words. "You said best friends?" he asked slowly.  
  
Merlin made a non-committal noise. "Pretty good friends. Eh, we're alright."  
  
Arthur yanked on him and pulled him into a noogie, Merlin yelping the whole time.  
  
"Best friends, okay?" Merlin gasped, and Arthur let him go. Merlin's hair was sticking up even more than usual and he was scowling.  
  
After sulking for a record fifteen seconds, Merlin turned to Arthur. "You know what best friends do? Have sleepovers in caves of course!"  
  
Arthur put his head in his hands and groaned.  
  
\---  
  
The moon was bright, yellow, and full as they emerged from the mouth of the cave and into the cool ocean breeze.  
  
“This is going to be great!” Merlin said happily, setting down his sleeping bag with a plop.  
  
Judging by the skeptical look on his face, Arthur wasn’t so sure. “We’re going to freeze,” he said flatly.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “No we’re not, you big sissy. Besides we can always go back up to the house if it’s too cold.” He set down his backpack next to it, the magick book hidden inside.  
  
He wasn’t quite sure why he had brought it. But Arthur had brought Aredian’s ledger, so Merlin felt as if he should contribute to the eeriness that was their pseudo-sleepover.  
  
(“Sleepover sounds way too girly Merlin,” Arthur lectured. “Camp out is perfect.”  
  
“You’re a prat,” was all Merlin said.)  
  
It didn’t take long for them to lay out their sleeping bags a few inches away from each other and then crawl into them, seeing as they had both worn their pajamas to the cave.  
  
The chill of the cave floor seeped slightly into Merlin’s blankets but with Arthur radiating heat only a bit away, it wasn’t hard to get comfortable.  
  
Arthur attempted to read aloud some of the ledger, but talking of the caves only feet away from them, made the stories seem more real, and Arthur hastily stopped as an eerie feeling that they were being watched settled over them.  
  
After they clicked off their torches, Merlin let the crashing waves and the sound of Arthur’s slow breathing lull him to sleep.  
  
He awoke to the sound of chanting.  
  
The hair on the back of Merlin’s neck stood straight up. Arthur’s eyes were open when Merlin looked over. He sent Arthur a frantic look as the sound of the voices swelled and fell in a rhythm that matched the sudden pounding of his heart.  
  
“Las Druidas,” Arthur hissed, unmoving except for his eyes and lips.  
  
“In the caves?” Merlin mouthed. Arthur nodded, barely a movement at all.  
  
Merlin craned his neck upwards, but couldn’t see anything moving in the moonlit night.  
  
“They have to be in one of the inner caves because I can’t see anything,” Merlin whispered, sitting up.  
  
Arthur sat up and reached for Aredian’s ledger. “Aredian mentioned a central cavern that they used for one of their rituals. He even drew a little map, see?” Arthur flipped to a page and stabbed at a rough ink sketch with his finger.  
  
Merlin gave him an incredulous look. “Have you been reading these for bedtime material or something?”  
  
Arthur huffed. “Or something.”  
  
Merlin studied the map and whistled. “There is a whole system of caves we didn’t even know about.” He looked up to catch Arthur’s eyes. “Do you want to check it out?”  
  
Arthur’s lips tightened. “Grab your torch,” he said tersely, and stood up.  
  
Scrambling out of his sleeping bag, Merlin seized his torch and shot to his feet.  
  
The moonlight was bright enough for them to carefully creep over the ledge that they had claimed for their camping space and into the chamber beyond, bare feet padding on smooth stone, torches off and held loosely by their sides.  
  
Using the moonlight to read the map, Arthur pointed them in the right direction. The light faded, leaving the caves in blackness only lit by the sporadic placing of the phosphorescent moss. It wasn’t enough to read the map by, but it was enough for Merlin to follow Arthur without smacking into his back whenever they stopped to listen.  
  
The chanting was repeating over and over again, the sound cresting and falling over them as they crept through the cave.  
  
Arthur had Merlin flick on the flashlight once, bodies hunched over the light, trying to hide it from view as they checked which fork they should take in the path.  
  
There was a point where Arthur was sure that they had to go one way, and Merlin the other, but finally they chose Arthur’s way after much poking and hissing at each other.  
  
They chose the fork that the chanting was coming down the loudest, and also because Merlin was looking at the map upside down and couldn’t be trusted to tell his left from his right.  
An orange light started flickering down the passageway and the smooth rock under their feet gave way to a fine white sand. Merlin was suddenly struck by the ridiculousness of them sneaking through the caves in their pajamas.  
  
The passageway got a little smaller before it opened into a sizable cavern, some rocks hiding their full view of the room, Merlin and Arthur crouching and creeping forward, peering over the boulders in their way.  
  
About a dozen cloaked figures were standing in a circle around a bonfire, arms raised to the sky. Their hoods were too low for Merlin to make out their faces or even their genders. All his reeling brain could register was that they were definitely not chanting in Spanish.  
  
“What are they saying?” Arthur breathed, grabbing Merlin’s arm where the boulder could hide his movement.  
  
Merlin shook his head. “It must be the old English that’s used in the spells in the book.”  
  
Arthur’s brow wrinkled. “Book?”  
  
“The magick book! The one I’ve been reading through for the last several weeks!” Merlin hissed.  
  
Arthur pouted. “You didn’t tell me you were reading the book.”  
  
“And you didn’t tell me about the ledger! Now really isn’t the time, Arthur!” Merlin didn’t dare move closer to the circle of Las Druidas (for that is what they definitely were), but his ears were craned towards their spell. He didn’t recognize much. He heard the _árisan_ , and a word that sounded something like summer, something that sounded vaguely like the word for earth, _eard_ , a word for magic he definitely recogni[z](http://www.oldenglishtranslator.co.uk/)ed, _drýlác_.  
  
Las Druidas were walking around the fire, and Merlin and Arthur shrank back behind the boulder.  
  
“We should go,” Merlin whispered, his breath coming hard, heart thumping in his chest.  
  
Arthur looked at him, eyes wide, but he nodded. “They don’t seem like they’re doing anything wrong. Or, er, dangerous.”  
  
Merlin nodded. “I can recognize some of the words of the spell,” he confessed. “It doesn’t sound malicious to me.”  
  
Arthur gave him a confused look, as if he was trying to figure Merlin out. “Let’s go,” he whispered finally, placing a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and guiding him away.  
  
It took longer for them to make their way back to their sleeping bags, partially because they were trying to be quiet and listen at the same time, partially from the fact that Arthur led them down the wrong fork twice.  
  
The cool sea breeze on Merlin’s face was a relief as they collapsed onto their sleeping bags. The chanting had stopped behind them, faded out and away as they walked back.  
  
“Maybe they do this every full moon,” Merlin suggested after a short silence.  
  
Merlin could clearly see the roll of Arthur’s eyes in the moonlight. “Get out your magic book and let’s see what we can find.”  
  
Merlin should have thought of that sooner, but he scrambled after the book fast enough anyway.  
  
It had looked like a ceremony of some sorts, so he quickly flipped to the ritual section, searching for something about the full moon.  
  
He scowled. “All these rituals are about the harvest,” he murmured, running a finger down the page. He looked up at Arthur. “None of these spells look like that one sounded.”  
  
Arthur bit his lip. “Is there a summer ritual?” he asked, his voice soft in the night.  
  
Merlin looked. “Oh! Yes. A renewal of the earth. _Eorðbígenga árisan, forþtíaþ drýlác æt se eard_.” The words of the first line rolled off his tongue.  
  
Merlin’s breath caught as something warm swelled around him, caressing him before disappearing completely. He gasped at the absence, falling forward onto one arm.  
  
Arthur stared at him. “How did you know how to pronounce those words? Are you alright?” He leaned forward in concern and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder.  
  
“I’m fine,” Merlin took a deep breath. “Just got a chill from the wind, I guess.” He managed a small smile up at Arthur.  
  
Arthur’s sudden intake of breath was audible. “Merlin,” he said slowly. “There was no wind. And your eyes are golden.”  
  
Merlin’s breath caught. “What?”  
  
Arthur frowned at him. “Say the spell again,” he commanded.  
  
Merlin shook his head, disbelieving. “It’s not even a full spell,” he argued. “It’s the first line, basically an introduction. And it’s not magic, Arthur. Magic isn’t rea-”  
  
“Say it again,” Arthur insisted, his hand squeezing Merlin’s shoulder.  
  
Merlin swallowed and tried again. “ _Eorðbígenga árisan, forþtíaþ drýlác æt se eard_ ,” he intoned. “ _Drýlác hálian, edníwe_.”  
  
The warmth surged from Merlin this time, coming from somewhere in his chest that he didn’t know existed, surging up and around him before dispersing into the air. His breath caught in his throat and Arthur’s fingers dug bruises into his shoulder, as the magic (of course that’s what it was) glowed golden in the moonlight, swirling lazily into the rock and sea around them. The rock underneath him warmed slightly, pulsing as it received the magic.  
  
It seemed smoother under his fingers as he ran them wonderingly over the floor. He could sense a pulsing there, as if he was feeling the wrist of the Earth, feeling the heartbeat of the world coming through the rock.  
  
Arthur let go of his shoulder suddenly and grabbed at his chin, forcing Merlin to meet his eyes.  
  
“Ow!” he flinched away and scowled.  
  
“Your eyes are _gold_ ,” Arthur said wonderingly. “Like, _shining_.”  
  
Merlin stared at him. “Magic,” he said weakly.  
  
“Magic,” Arthur said slowly, as if tasting the word on his tongue, trying it out. “Yes,” he agreed. “Magic.”  
  
Merlin nibbled at his lip and studied the book. “I didn’t think it was real,” he muttered.  
  
Arthur looked confused. “Have you done magic before?”  
  
Merlin shook his head. “No, not really. There’s just been,” he considered. “Things,” he decided. “Strange things. But not magic.”  
  
“Do you know any more spells?” Arthur let go of his shoulder to lean back. “Try something else.”  
  
“There is one I remember.” Merlin pursed his lips and grabbed for the torch, setting it on the rock in front of them. “ _Árisan_ ,” he said softly, letting his voice caress the word.  
  
There was a small burning feeling in his chest, but nothing happened.  
  
“ _Árisan_ ,” he said more commandingly, pointing at the torch.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Merlin scowled. “I don’t get it,” he whined.  
  
Arthur leaned over and patted his knee, leaving his hand to rest there. “Try one more time? You can’t just give up, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin glared at him. “ _Árisan_ ,” he mumbled and the torch shot up two meters into the air.  
  
Merlin’s mouth fell open. “What,” he said softly. There was a warmth growing in his chest, but it was pleasant, comforting. Almost as comforting as the hand on his knee that was squeezing tightly.  
  
“Can you do more?” Arthur asked softly, wonderingly, and it was just natural for Merlin to comply, to push outwards with the warmth, spreading and pushing.  
  
Suddenly Merlin felt open space underneath him, feeling the breeze against his feet as Arthur gasped and clutched at him.  
  
He opened his eyes and found the both of them hovering ten centimeters above the ground.  
  
“Okay, you can stop now,” Arthur’s voice was higher pitched, fear bleeding into it as his hands drew Merlin closer to him. “Put us down, please?”  
  
Merlin frowned and reached for the warmth, cutting it off abruptly, causing them to bump to the ground in a tangle of limbs.  
  
“Ouch,” Merlin complained.  
  
“Yeah,” Arthur muttered, and dug the torch out from under him. “Please be more careful next time. I meant moving the _torch_ higher, not us.”  
  
Merlin panicked. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he whispered. His fingers were shaking as he reached for the spell book.  
  
Arthur’s face softened and he slung an arm over Merlin’s shoulder, pulling him close and squeezing. “I guess you’re finally living up to your name.”  
  
Merlin gave him a look, but appreciated the effort to break the tension. “I think it’s partly your fault though,” he muttered and Arthur turned toward him. Merlin swallowed. “The book mentioned amplifiers, conduits, that increased the strength of the magic. When you were- when you were touching me, the magic was stronger. _Is_ stronger.”  
  
Arthur made a face. “Try again.”  
  
“ _Árisan_ ,” Merlin said to Arthur’s sleeping bag, with only a gentle prod with the heat in his chest. It lifted into the air, and when encouraged, made a circuit around them, flapping slightly in the breeze.  
  
Arthur abruptly pulled away from him, removing his arm. The bag fell.  
  
Tentatively, Arthur rested a hand on the back of Merlin’s neck. Merlin shuddered and the torch lifted into the air along with the sleeping bag.  
  
Pulling Merlin closer, Arthur wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and then the other too, hugging Merlin closely to his chest.  
  
Merlin felt himself lifting off the ground as the warmth suddenly swelled from his chest, engulfing them both and shooting them into the air, hovering above the sea and the little overhang jutting into the water.  
  
“That’s... interesting,” Arthur said, breathing heavily and clutching at Merlin very tightly. “I’m not very scared of heights, Merlin, but do you mind putting us down.”  
  
“Sure,” Merlin said faintly, nudging, twisting, tugging, until their feet gently touched the ground.  
  
Arthur staggered a bit as he felt his own weight again. “Let’s not do that again,” his voice a higher pitch than it normally was. “You didn’t even say the spell that time. Maybe you really don’t need it?”  
  
“That could be true,” Merlin nodded. “But no more flying for now. Without warning at least.” He grinned. “That was actually kind of fun, didn’t you think so?”  
  
Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “Hovering several meters above the ocean held up by an unknown force doesn’t usually hit my ‘fun’ list, but alright.”  
  
Carefully, Arthur let go of him. “Are you sure you can’t do magic without me touching you?” He peered into Merlin’s face. “Your eyes are fading more slowly this time. Maybe they stay golden for longer when you use more strength.”  
  
Merlin shrugged, suddenly exhausted. “Can we figure this out in the morning?” he asked as he adjusted Arthur’s grounded sleeping bag. “That last one really got to me.”  
  
“Of course,” Arthur said quickly. “Honestly, lifting people into the air.” He grinned at Merlin. “We could have fun with this Merlin.”  
  
Merlin smiled despite his tiredness, burrowing into his own sleeping bag. “Yes,” he yawned, rolling around a bit to get comfortable, finally stopping when he was only inches from the edge of Arthur’s sleeping bag. “Goodnight then.”  
  
“Night, Merlin,” Arthur murmured out of the darkness just as Merlin fell asleep, the newfound warmth in his chest humming in agreement.  
  
\---  
  
Arthur woke up the next day to the most glorious sunrise. Well it would be glorious if it hadn’t woken him up. Las Druidas had really kept them up too late.  
  
Blinking in the dawn light, he sat up halfway and noticed that Merlin was still asleep, snuffling gently into his pillow, messy hair stark black against the pillow.  
  
Swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat, Arthur picked up his pillow and whacked Merlin over the head with it. “Get up Merlin and help me bring the stuff up the tunnel! I don’t know how you can sleep with the sun coming up anyway.”  
  
One of Merlin’s eyelids cracked open. “G’way,” he mumbled, turning his head away from Arthur. “M’ still tired.”  
  
“Well, we can go back to bed in the house if we want to.” Arthur whacked him with the pillow again. “But it’s too light out here for me to sleep and I’m not leaving you down here sleeping alone.”  
  
Merlin glared at him. “Fine,” he mumbled, keeping the sleeping bag wrapped around him and his pillow in his arms as he shuffled towards the entrance, leaving Arthur with the books and torches along with his own sleeping things.  
  
“Lazy,” muttered Arthur, following Merlin up the path.  
  
Silently, Merlin reached back and grabbed hold of his wrist. The stuff in Arthur’s hands became weightless and floated out of his grip, bobbing along behind the both of them.  
  
“Oh.” Arthur watched them for a moment before twining his fingers with Merlin’s. “That’s rather useful, isn’t it?”  
  
Merlin grumbled sleepily in front of him as the cave grew darker. A ball of golden light appeared in front of them, casting the passageway in a cheery glow.  
  
Arthur squeezed at Merlin’s fingers and Merlin turned a bleary-eyed, golden gaze back at him. “Thanks,” Arthur said quietly. Merlin made a soft sound and continued onward.  
  
“I’m just glad you’re my friend,” Arthur murmured softly to his back. Merlin’s fingers squeezed around his.  
  
Silently, they made their way up the passageway, Merlin’s magic helping to shut the secret door before trudging into Arthur’s room and collapsing on either sides of the bed.  
  
“Don’t hog the sheet,” Merlin mumbled, turning into the pillow and quickly snuffling back into sleep.  
  
Arthur watched him for a moment, just a few seconds to admire the eyelashes contrasted on his cheek and how his bed hair looked on the pillow.  
  
Sighing, Arthur pulled up the covers and slept.  
  
He awoke again later to the lump in his bed that was Merlin, snuffling slightly in his sleep and frankly, quite adorable.  
  
Stretching languidly, Arthur reached out to kick him gently in the leg.  
  
"Wake up Merlin. I'm bored."  
  
"You're a prat," came the mumbled reply, muffled by the pillow.  
  
"Yes I know I'm a prat," Arthur said, amused. "But I think we've slept for about nine hours now, so, time to wake up."  
  
A blue eye looked at him blearily from the pillow, then disappeared behind black hair again. "Summer is for sleeping," Merlin said indignantly. "So I'm going to sleep."  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes and dragged the sheet away from Merlin. He mewled in the slight chill of the morning.  
  
Reaching out in a flash, he wrapped his fingers around Arthur's wrist and the sheet rolled back up over him, tucking in at the sides and resting right underneath his chin. Sighing, Merlin snuggled in close to the bed.  
  
Even after prying off Merlin's fingers, Arthur couldn't pull the sheet back, it being stuck by some invisible force and Merlin's body weight.  
  
He gave up in a huff and Merlin snickered.  
  
"You're not even sleeping any more," Arthur grumbled. "Come on let's get up and test out your magic some more. Let's go Merlin the magician!"  
  
Merlin's eyes opened in a golden glare and even without Merlin touching him first, Arthur found himself on the floor.  
  
"Hey," he gasped, the breath momentarily knocked out of him. "Rude. I share my bed and covers with you and you kick me out!"  
  
Merlin peeked down at him over the side of the bed, not in the least bit contrite. His eyes were twinkling.  
  
“Didn’t you want me to practice my magic?” he smirked.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Fine, put me back on the bed please?”  
  
Merlin concentrated, his eyes glowing gold briefly. Arthur felt a nudge, and then another nudge, and he was lifted two inches off the floor before bumping back down again.  
  
Wordlessly, he reached out his hand and Merlin grabbed it.  
  
This time Arthur was lifted into the air and landed none too softly on the bed on top of Merlin.  
  
“Ow,” Merlin complained.  
  
“This is all your fault,” Arthur wheezed at him. Carefully, they untangled themselves to stare briefly at the ceiling.  
  
“Come on.” Arthur smacked Merlin on the chest, causing him to yelp like a puppy. “Get up, get dressed, shower if you wish, and then let’s go practice throwing random objects around.”  
  
It didn’t take long before they were both clean and in jeans and t-shirts, munching toast on stools in Arthur’s kitchen.  
  
“I have to teach you how to make eggs sometime,” Merlin commented, offhand, crunching into his toast again.  
  
Arthur shrugged. “I am a toast master,” he said loftily. “I can spread jam, butter, or marmalade on toast.”  
  
“And the crowd goes wild,” Merlin deadpanned.  
  
Arthur flicked a crumb at him. Merlin flicked one back- but without using his hands.  
  
“Cheater!”  
  
“I know.” Merlin grinned and made the crumbs on his plate swirl around in circles.  
  
“Try doing something else?” Arthur suggested. “Like other than telekinesis I mean.”  
  
Merlin frowned at him. “Like what?”  
  
“Try...” Arthur cast a look around the room, searching. “Turning the lights off. Without using the switch.”  
  
Merlin’s brow wrinkled in concentration for a minute, his eyes screwing up and turning golden. The light fizzled out above their heads.  
  
“Huh. I didn’t think you could actually do it.”  
  
Merlin punched him in the thigh.  
  
“Well you do only seem to be able to do big magic when you’re touching me.” Arthur started in on another piece of toast. “So see how long you can hold that plate in the air.”  
  
Dramatically, Merlin pointed at the plate. It shakily rose two inches into the air and stayed there, quivering.  
  
Silently, Arthur got to his feet and started walking away. With every step the plate wobbled dangerously until Arthur reached the door to the foyer and it bumped back to the table.  
  
“Interesting,” he commented. “Was that the distance or because lost sight of me?”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Dunno.” He glared at the plate, making it float up a centimeter or two  before settling it back down.  
  
“You’re getting better at it though.” Arthur ducked into the hallway. “Try now!” he called.  
  
Peeking only his eyes over the doorjamb, Arthur saw the plate shake on the counter, then wobbly rise before clattering back down.  
  
He stepped into the doorway. “Try now?” The plate rose three centimeters, easily. As Arthur walked closer, the plate became less and less wobbly. Casually, Merlin twirled a finger, making the plate travel around in a circle.  
  
Finally Arthur tentatively laid a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. The plate suddenly grew, increasing to about the size of a dinner plate.  
  
“Er,” Arthur said articulately. “What?”  
  
Merlin shrugged.  
  
“Change it back, Merlin!”  
  
“But I didn’t mean to!” Merlin protested. He glared at the plate, and it sheepishly shrunk back to its proper size.  
  
Arthur lowered himself onto a stool. “This is going to be weird, isn’t it?”  
  
Merlin glared at him.  
  
"Weird in a good way, " Arthur said innocently, smiling a little.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes and flicked his fingers at him. His eyes glowing golden, the plate bumped into Arthur's chest, not hard enough to really hurt but enough to feel annoying.  
  
"Brat, " Arthur said fondly. “Why don't you come clean my room with magic or something?”  
  
“As much fun as that sounds," Merlin deadpanned, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline on principle that you're a prat."  
  
Arthur shot him what must have been a very impressive pout.  
  
"Fine!" Merlin threw his hands up in the air. "But I'm not doing all the work. Cleaning your room builds character and, clearly, you need some."  
  
Arthur stuck out his lower lip, trying to convey just how much Merlin's comment had hurt him (not really that much).  
  
Merlin twitched his fingers at him, and it felt like he’d flicked Arthur on the tip of his nose. "Come on then."  
  
Arthur trailed Merlin up the stairs, prodding him in the bum when he moved too slowly, still sleepy.  
  
"Stop that," Merlin mumbled, batting at his hand before finally grabbing them and holding on as they entered Arthur's room. Arthur's breath caught in his throat suddenly and he squeezed gently at Merlin's hands.  
  
Merlin squeezed back before dropping them.  
  
"Okay what do you want done," Merlin asked mockingly, putting his hands on his hips and surveying Arthur's mess of a room. "You seriously have issues with disorganization don't you."  
  
Arthur scowled at him. "There's no need to rub it in," he mumbled and kicked at a pile of dirty clothes. "But Mum's been nagging me for a week now so," he trailed off. "I can do quite a bit, but help? Please?"  
  
Merlin gave him a look, and then flicked his fingers gently. The clothes at Arthur's feet flew up into his arms.  
  
"There," Merlin said cheerfully, flopping down on Arthur's bed, still unmade from that morning. "I've helped. Now be a good boy and put away your dirty clothes, yes?"  
  
Arthur grudgingly dumped the pile of clothes into the dirty hamper and then stared hopelessly around the room.  
  
"You could try tidying up your video games next," Merlin suggested idly from the bed, his head pillowed on his hands. The bedcovers were slowly making the bed underneath him, the sheet slithering up and the pillows fluffing themselves.  
  
"That is seriously creepy," Arthur tried to say mockingly, but it only came out weak. He went over to the TV case and started to stack up cases.  
  
"The games are in the wrong boxes," Merlin said lazily, not even looking up from his nest in the bed, the covers carefully smoothing out every wrinkle.  
  
"Seriously, very creepy, Merlin," was all Arthur said, placing each cartridge carefully back into the cabinet. The game controllers were helpfully rolling their cords in on themselves. "You could run a business like this though. Make kids pay you to clean their rooms, I mean."  
  
Merlin hummed noncommittally. "I've only just learned how, you prat," he said absentmindedly. "Though it is very easy to get the dust off your ceiling fan when you can simply divide the atoms."  
  
Arthur boggled at him. "You can not!" He was flummoxed.  
  
Merlin lifted his head to grin at him. "It's true," he admitted. "But you should have seen your face. It was priceless."  
  
Arthur huffed and shut the glass cabinet on the video game case. "What next?"  
  
"You still have plenty of dirty clothes on the floor, Arthur," Merlin reminded him. In the next second, Arthur found every single dirty article of clothing flying at him and sticking to some part of his body. Unfortunately, the boxers hit him in the face.  
  
"Thanks a lot Merlin," his voice was muffled as he pulled them off.  
  
"You're welcome," Merlin answered cheerfully. "Glad you know how to do some things, like say, tell your clean clothes from dirty!"  
  
"Ha ha," Arthur said dryly. "You think you're so funny, don't you. Well you're not." He dumped the pile into the dirty clothes bin, pulling off a pair of jeans that were sticking to him like static electricity. "You're just funny looking. Big ears and all you know."  
  
Merlin sat up, an outraged look on  his face. "They're not that big!"  
  
Arthur smirked. "So you admit they are big then," he asked triumphant.  
  
Merlin's eyes narrowed at him. "No," he said sourly. "You're just a prat." He flopped back down on the bed.  
  
Arthur looked around the room. It was a lot cleaner now, and at least the most obvious piles had been moved and consolidated. He flopped down next to Merlin, pushing him a little to find room for his long legs.  
  
"They're not really that big," he said quietly.  
  
Merlin snorted, disbelieving.  
  
"Okay they are!" Arthur laughed. "But they're nice, you know?" He reached over and flicked at one of them. Merlin hissed at him and batted his hands away.  
  
"Prat!" he scolded. Arthur felt his own ear being tweaked as Merlin's eyes glowed golden.  
  
"I like it when you do that," Arthur murmured, transfixed.  
  
Spots of colour appeared high on Merlin's cheeks. "What?" he  mumbled, a little breathless.  
  
"Magic," Arthur smiled. "You're like a schoolboy on the playground, I swear."  
  
Merlin looked affronted. "Am not!" he insisted. "I'm not running after girls and pulling their pigtails and pretending to kiss them."  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. He suddenly got a very good idea, especially with the way Merlin's lips were pursed in frustration and confusion. "There are no girls here," he reminded Merlin.  
  
Merlin's eyes narrowed to slits. "What are you implying Arthur?"  
  
Arthur smiled fondly at him. "Sometimes you are so dense," he said affectionately. Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but Arthur shut him up with a kiss.  
  
It was much gentler this time, slower to start. And also made Arthur feel a lot better than last time, a hot rush in his gut that had nothing to do with guilt and shame and everything to do with the way that Merlin was pushing back and making a low noise of appreciation in his throat as Arthur moved his lips against his.  
  
Lips tingling, Arthur pulled away, looked into Merlin's blue eyes, shaded and starry, and too close to memorize their details.  
  
"What was that for?" Merlin asked dazedly.  
  
Arthur smiled too widely, a little crazily. "Because I wanted to, you daft sod!" he said, leaning in again.  
  
Kissing Merlin was brilliant. At first Arthur was the one leading, licking against Merlin's lip and biting down gently, pressing in again and again, working his fingers into the collar of Merlin's t-shirt. But then Merlin turned their heads to a better angle, one with better access to curl his tongue in between Arthur's lips, to nip at the curve of his jaw and slowly explore the roof of Arthur's mouth with his tongue. It was wonderful, perfect. It made Arthur's head spin and his knees go unsteady, despite the fact that they were both laying down, on Arthur's _bed_.  
  
Good god, the bed they had been sleeping in platonically just this morning. But, nope, Arthur wasn't going to think about that. Was only going to think of burying his fingers in Merlin's soft hair, to smooth away the sleep still crusted at the corner of Merlin's eyes and to watch the way his eyelids fluttered as Arthur placed soft kisses along the line of his jaw.  
  
Arthur had just worked up enough courage to slot a knee between Merlin's just as Merlin's hands were scrabbling down his back, finding the hem of his t-shirt and reaching inside, smoothing at the skin of his back. A sharp bolt of lust shot through Arthur, straight from his stomach like an electrical jolt.  
  
Merlin felt it too, he could tell.  
  
And then the lights went out.  
  
\---  
  
And when the lights went out, they really went out. Merlin felt it, a reaching out, sort of. It came from him, a golden fizzle, a warm cloud of magic. He hadn't meant to, not really. It was just... Arthur touching him. Merlin's magic liked it, really liked it. It kept wanting to reach out and touch, to feel. Merlin had mostly kept it reigned in, back, but some of it had stolen over Arthur's skin, lighting it golden in Merlin's vision, swirling around forearms and biceps, sealing itself into Arthur's skin.  
  
Somehow, Merlin had managed to burn out every single lightbulb in the room.  
  
"Nice going Merlin," Arthur commented dryly as he tried flicking on his torch. "Got any fancy spells for this one?"  
  
Merlin glared at him, snapping his fingers idly and picturing a warm ball of light in his hand. Almost to his surprise, it appeared.  
  
Arthur looked startled in the warm light of its glow. "How did you do that? Just by snapping your fingers. You did it this morning in the cave too."  
  
Merlin shrugged. "I think it was less of snapping my fingers and more of  the visualization," he admitted. "I just snapped my fingers to look cool," he said sheepishly. Arthur tried to hid a grin and failed.  
  
"You are very useful," he said, smiling, brushing a hand against Merlin's face.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Can we get back to snogging now?"  
  
Arthur frowned. "You just burnt out every single light bulb in my room and you want to get off?"  
  
Merlin felt his cheeks burn. "That's not what I meant you berk! And when did you become the guru of gay sex anyway?"  
  
Arthur withdrew his hand, his face shuttering closed. "Er, we weren't exactly talking about sex," he said awkwardly.  
  
Merlin winced. "Sorry. I've managed to stick my foot in it, haven't I?"  
  
Arthur smiled gently. "Just a bit."  
  
"So we can't keep snogging?" Merlin tried a puppy dog look. He wasn't sure if it was working.  
  
Arthur signed. "Let's go downstairs," he said finally.  "We should at least check and make sure the lights work down there. After we replace my bulbs we can do more lip service alright?"  
  
Merlin leaned forward, quashing the orb of light in his mind, leaving them in the semi darkness with the only light coming in from the cracks of the curtains that Arthur never bothered to open. Leaning forward with a sixth sense he didn't know he had, he captured Arthur's lips in his, sliding them slowly, then gliding his tongue inside, tasting Arthur gently before withdrawing. "Yes, let's go!" he said brightly, turning and walking towards the door.  
  
Arthur growled behind him, clearly frustrated, but not wanting to be hypocritical, following Merlin out into the lit part of the house.  
  
"Have you even had a proper snog with a bloke before?" Merlin asked idly, minutes later, banging his heels against the side of the washing machine as Arthur rooted through a cupboard in the washing room.  
  
Arthur mumbled something, head buried in the detergent shelf.  
  
"Sorry, didn't catch that!" Merlin said cheerfully, fully enjoying this new, vulnerable Arthur.  
  
"Sort of," Arthur admittedly uncomfortably, pulling his head out just long enough to blush crimson before diving back into the cupboard.  
  
"Aww," Merlin cooed, delighted. "Inexperience is nothing to be ashamed of young Arthur!"  
  
"You're only four months older than me!" Arthur yelped.  
  
"Numbers," Merlin waved a hand in the air. "Inconsequential. Still. Inexperience. It happens to everyone."  
  
Arthur frowned at him, but stayed silent.  
  
"Is it girls?" Merlin asked curiously. "Has your experience in the past just been mostly with girls? That's the case a lot of the time, you know. Nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
Arthur shrugged. "I've had the random snog and grope at parties with girls," he admitted, stopping in his search for a moment. “Never really was very interesting. With blokes though, not many proper snogs to go around, you know?”  
  
Merlin didn’t know, but he was gracious enough to let Arthur finish.  
  
Arthur shook his head. "I run around mostly with rugby and footie boys. Macho men, though surprisingly homoerotic in the locker room, tend to stray away from randomly making out with their mates."  
  
Merlin raised his eyebrows, surprised that Arthur knew the word homoerotic. "You should really broaden your friend group then." He grinned. "My mate Will and me were practicing kissing at a very young age. He still says that he's straight as an arrow. Not sure that I quite believe that though."  
  
Arthur's cheeks were tinged pink when he leaned back out of the cupboard, this time clutching a box of light bulbs. "Well I'm hanging out with you, aren't I?" he huffed.  
  
Merlin smiled, reaching out to twist a hand in Arthur's shirt. "Well we're not just mates anymore are we?" he said, yanking Arthur forward to clash their lips together.  
  
Arthur was laughing into the kiss and Merlin slipped his tongue in his mouth to get him to stop. It worked perfectly, getting Arthur to respond and moan against him. Arthur's hand came up to cradle against Merlin's face just as the laundry room went dark with a fizzle and a pop.  
  
"Shit," Arthur laughed into the darkness. "I won't even be able to take you out in public, will I?"  
  
Merlin groaned, pressing his nose into Arthur's cheek.  
  
Later, Merlin was lying spread eagle on the floor, watching Arthur teeter on a ladder to screw in a lightbulb.  
  
"When you said we’re not just mates anymore," Arthur said absently.  
  
"Hmm?" Arthur was upside down in Merlin's vision, biting at one lip in concentration.  
  
"What did you mean?"  
  
Annoyed, Merlin sent a burst of magic to flick Arthur on the ear. When Arthur yelped, he turned it into a soothing touch against Arthur's cheek.  
  
"I meant that I like you, and it's clear that you like me," Merlin glared up at Arthur, who grinned cheekily down at him. "And that clearly we're not going to be friends that randomly get off with each other-"  
  
"But we haven't gotten off," Arthur pointed out, climbing down from the ladder.  
  
"Not. Yet," Merlin said pointedly, causing a blush to tinge Arthur's cheeks. "So I was proposing that we be boyfriends."  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Boyfriends."  
  
Merlin looked at him balefully. "Yes, oh thick one, boyfriends. Hold hands, go on dates, go out clubbing, shag?"  
  
Arthur shrugged, resting his hands onto his knees as he leaned over Merlin. "I suppose I could deal with that." He grinned, bending over to press a light kiss against Merlin's lips, pulling back much too soon.  
  
"Well if everything is agreeable to you," Merlin rolled his eyes, "can we get on with the shagging part? I quite like that part."  
  
Arthur sprawled out on the floor next to him. "I can fix the other lightbulbs later," he said casually.  
  
"Yes, " Merlin agreed, "you can. Now, get over here right now."  
  
"I am here!" Arthur protested, but leaned against Merlin's side, propping his head up on a hand. "Kissing now?"  
  
"Kissing now," smiled Merlin reeling Arthur in by a hand to the neck. Kissing Arthur was one of his favorite activities, Merlin decided. Arthur's lips were surprisingly soft, not too common in Merlin's forays in kissing boys. He was good at kissing and had a wicked tongue, but there was a chaste air about everything, something that Merlin swore he had to get rid of.  
  
He pulled back suddenly, remembering. "Hang on, did you say that you've never even had a blow job?"  
  
Arthur bit at his lip. "Not in so many words," he said slowly.  
  
Merlin pulled him forward again, attaching their lips together. "We'll have to fix that, soon," he mumbled against Arthur's lips.  
  
"Um," Arthur sounded a bit uncertain, his hand that was cradling Merlin's neck trembling slightly. "Right now?"  
  
"Just soon," Merlin promised, pulling back just enough to smile at him. "No rush. We have all summer, you see?"  
  
Arthur laughed, sliding fingers through Merlin's silky hair. "Yes, I see," he said, yanking him back into a kiss.  
  
\---  
  
The nature of their relationship didn't change much after that, though a good majority of it was spent snogging instead of exploring or laying around, and a surprising bit was spent in the general store on the island, buying lightbulbs. Merlin wasn't getting any better or worse, for that matter, at controlling his accidental magic. When he tried magic on purpose though, he was getting downright scary good with it.  
  
So they tried to do the majority of their kissing outside. The caves actually provided wonderful shelter and cover from prying eyes.  
  
Merlin came through on his promise of a blowjob, surprising Arthur one day as they were running around in the sand dunes, pinning him to the edge of the hill and showing him just how talented his tongue was (very talented).  
  
Arthur got a turn soon after, though first they spent a while washing sand out of many crevices and delicate places that sand wasn't invited to in the first place.  
  
Hunith never asked why Arthur was staying over more often than usual, but they usually ate the home cooked meal at Merlin's place and then retreated to Arthur's for the night, snuggling up in Arthur's big bed, maybe lending a hand or two when the other needed it.  
  
Arthur decided that his parents were much too oblivious about many things, but after Uther caught them in the living room, quite shirtless and too breathless for propriety's sake, they both got a very embarrassing lecture which was mortifying for all parties involved. Arthur decided that they could never have dinner at their place again, for fear that Merlin would spontaneously combust from the embarrassment of looking Uther in the eye.  
  
Over three weeks, they broke two paintings, shattered one mirror, punched a neat hole in the window of Merlin's room and shorted out about two dozen lightbulbs. And when Arthur said 'they' he really meant Merlin.  
  
It was safest out on the beach, with Merlin lazing around (most of the time on top of Arthur, the sweaty git) carving castles out of the damp sand with a wave of his finger and a flash of gold.  
  
"That’s our castle," Merlin said lazily one day. "Look in the window there."  
  
Arthur looked, finding that he could in fact see through the window, and that there was a four poster bed with two sand figures cuddled up on it.  
  
"That's our chamber," Merlin smiled, twirling a finger. The scene changed and Arthur could see one figure on his knees, scrubbing the floor while the other stood by the sand fireplace. And then the one figure was sucking the other's cock, being bent over the table-  
  
"Erm, Merlin," Arthur said amusedly, "Did you know that your magic is showing me your deepest darkest wank fantasies?"  
  
"Shit," Merlin cursed, sitting up suddenly. "Is not!"  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes and used the palm of his hand to crush the tower on the castle. "Just build a new one, alright?"  
  
Merlin sulked, and with a flash of gold in his eyes, a turret rose from the ground, this one with no doorways and a small window at the very top. A little figure was shaped in the opening, looking frowningly below, where Arthur could see a mini figure looking very pleased up at the tower.  
  
"I am not Rapunzel," he complained.  
  
Merlin shrugged and the tower collapsed, dumping sand on Arthur's feet. "Suit yourself. You were going to get rescued by a handsome prince."  
  
"Handsome," Arthur scoffed, unthinking, until he saw Merlin's face. "No, not handsome," he said hastily. "Too big of ears. And really messy hair. Endearing though. Definitely likeable. Some might even say adorable? I dunno, it would depend on the colour of his eyes."  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "What if I told you they were blue?"  
  
Arthur smiled, offhandedly, gentle. "Blue could work. Blue could make him very attractive indeed."  
  
Merlin made a face at him. “I don’t know why I put up with you,” he complained. “You really are a prat.”  
  
"And you really need to come up with some better insults before I start calling you Dumbo," Arthur teased.  
  
"That was mean," Merlin pouted, flicking sand at Arthur.  
  
Arthur sat up to pull Merlin into his lap, biting gently at the curve of one ear. “I love your ears,” he whispered into Merlin’s temple. Merlin shivered as Arthur ran his tongue along the ridge of his ear. They were _extremely_ sensitive. Arthur took advantage of that fact as often as he could.  
  
Merlin would be lying if he said he noticed time passing them by as they discovered new places on the island and he discovered Arthur’s every ticklish spot and certain caresses that made him whimper.  
  
One particularly mild afternoon, they fell asleep intertwined (the usual) in the middle of a grassy field (not the usual) and woke up to a meadow of wildflowers growing three feet high (very not the usual).  
  
“Aw,” Arthur teased and tweaked Merlin’s cheek. “You loveeee me. You know you do!”  
  
“Bloody magic,” was all Merlin mumbled back, ears going red.  
  
“Don’t try to deny it _Mer_ lin.” Arthur smiled slowly, turning to the side to press a kiss to Merlin’s cheek. “Your magic even loves me. It’s giving me flowers.”  
  
“And also destroying things,” Merlin pointed out.  
  
Arthur shrugged, and then pulled a move he must have learned from a Bond movie, somehow managing to straddle Merlin by the hips.  
  
Merlin blinked up at him. “That’s not fair,” he commented, admiring the way Arthur’s head was surrounded by flowers.  
  
“Life’s not fair,” Arthur retorted, lazily rolling his hips against Merlin’s.  
  
Merlin hummed, back arching into Arthur’s thrusts, reaching up to claw at the hem of Arthur’s t-shirt, feeling the muscles bunch and release under his fingers.  
  
“I’ll get itchy,” Arthur complained. “Too many gay flowers that your magic created. What’s next, rainbows and unicorns?”  
  
Merlin glared at him and stripped him out of his shirt anyway. “Unicorns only come to the pure, you twit. You are most definitely not pure.” He wriggled out of his own shirt in solidarity, resigning himself to the scratch of the grass beneath him (though it became much softer after a moment).  
  
Arthur crooked a smile at him. “Still a virgin though,” he said offhandedly, grinding down particularly hard, making Merlin gasp and see stars.  
  
“We’ll just have to,” Merlin broke off, accepting a sharp, biting kiss from Arthur, “work on that I suppose.” He groaned as Arthur worked his way down his chest, leaving a trail of teeth marks, mostly centered around his collarbones. Arthur’s hips slowed into a torturously slow grind above him, making Merlin whimper at the loss.  
  
“You’re a virgin too, you numpty,” Arthur mumbled. “Don’t pull the more experienced Jedi Master on me.”  
  
“Hmm,” was all Merlin could manage, fingers biting into Arthur’s hips, pulling him closer, the rough sting from the button of Arthur’s jeans creating the friction that he needed. “Nngh! Arthur! Stop teasing. Please.”  
  
“But who would bottom and who would top?” Arthur mused, as if only talking to himself. His hips resumed their lazy rolling, slowly picking up speed as Merlin writhed underneath him. “Which would you like better, Merlin? Do you want to be the one slicked up, open and ready, or the one with your fingers up my arse?”  
  
“Oh my god,” Merlin gasped, sweat starting to slide into the hollow of his back. “What the fuck are you even saying anymore?”  
  
Arthur laughed above him, a throaty chuckle that punctuated his thrusts down, pushing Merlin closer and closer to the edge as he leaned down to whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the edge, “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Merlin? Like being opened by my fingers? Maybe with my mouth wrapped around your cock? We could do it you know, right here, in this field. Where just anyone could stumble over us.”  
  
“Shit,” Merlin hissed, coming spectacularly in his pants, his magic shivering and pulsing over his skin. He was still shuddering through the aftershocks when Arthur went still and collapsed on top of him, knocking the air out of his lungs, twitching and gasping into Merlin’s chest.  
  
They relaxed for a moment, breathing in the scent of sunshine and warm grass, a light breeze swirling enough to cool the film of sweat covering Merlin. Arthur pressed at him, his weight both reassuring and growing uncomfortable.  
  
“You may have just given me the best orgasm of my life, but you are still heavy,” he grunted, pushing at Arthur’s chest, enjoying his weight for a moment before using magic to shift him to the side.  
  
“Hmm,” Arthur mumbled into his collarbone, rubbing his nose briefly in the dip there.  
  
Merlin sighed and wrapped an arm around his naked back, scratching lightly with his nails. “The flowers have grown another foot,” he commented. Arthur purred under his touch, wriggling slightly so Merlin could get at his neck. “Also you promised you wouldn’t make me come in my pants again, you prat!” Merlin wasn’t angry, not really. He couldn't be after that.  
  
“We’re still teenagers and we must embrace our adolescence,” Arthur sniffed. “Someday we will be sophisticated pensioners that will only be able to orgasm in Egyptian cotton sheets with only the finest of mattresses beneath us.”  
  
“I have no idea how you managed to sound both annoyingly posh and horny at the same time. Well done you,” Merlin deadpanned.  
  
Arthur smiled up at him, a slow, soft smile, hair practically glowing in the bright sunlight, looking exceedingly gorgeous.  
  
“God, your mouth,” Merlin muttered, reaching to brush his thumb over Arthur’s lips, red and slightly swollen from being sucked on. “I would never imagine what kind of filth you can come up with. I can hardly believe that you’re a growing little socialite with that kind of a mouth.”  
  
“I am full of many surprises,” Arthur said loftily. “Dashing, wondrous, sexy surprises.”  
  
Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Your mouth is also very annoying, did I mention that?”  
  
Arthur smiled dangerously. “My mouth makes you come in your pants,” he said slowly. “Or have you forgotten already?” He reached down to cup Merlin’s cock through his shorts, still painfully sensitive.  
  
“Stop that,” Merlin hissed, batting him away. “You are insatiable.”  
  
Arthur glanced down and winced. “No, not really. Just teasing. I like being a horny teenager though.” He smiled impishly at Merlin.  
  
“Yes it’s a very wonderful hobby,” Merlin sighed. “Now do you want to risk the flowers growing another foot so we can have a nap, or move this to somewhere more comfortable?”  
  
“Merlin, your afterglows are fairly evil on the environment,” Arthur said dryly. “We may never find our way out if we kip for half an hour.”  
  
“A bit like Sleeping Beauty,” Merlin mused, idly running his fingers through Arthur’s hair.  
  
“Sleeping Beaut _ies_ you mean,” Arthur corrected. “Though clearly you are the swooning maiden.”  
  
“Not a maiden, don’t swoon,” Merlin said automatically, before Arthur’s words caught up to him. “I meant you as the Beauty and me as the sorcerer that enchants you, though,” he confessed in a small voice.  
  
Arthur shrugged. “You do enchant me. In more ways than one,” he added softly.  
  
Merlin smiled. “You just like me for my magic.”  
  
“It’s one of the reasons that I like you,” Arthur admitted. “For example, you do a spot on laundry job when I employ my dirty mouth in wicked ways.”  
  
“You’re insufferable.” Merlin rolled his eyes and sent a skitter of magic down both of their stomachs, stickiness vanishing into thin air.  
  
“Thanks.” Arthur paused and bit at his lip. “But I do like you. An awful lot, Merlin.”  
  
For once, Merlin couldn’t make a joke. It was too sincere, too close to home. “Me too, Arthur,” he murmured quietly. Wrapping his arms around him, Merlin buried his nose in Arthur’s hair, trying not to clutch too tightly as the swelling in his chest grew bigger, threatening to overwhelm him.  
  
The flowers grew on around them, turning their faces up to the sun, keeping a quiet watch as Merlin and Arthur drifted in the afternoon heat.  
  
As much as Merlin wished he could spend forever in their happy bubble, shielded by fast-growing daisy chains and the sweet smelling grass, the real world came crashing in on them all too soon.  
  
They were laughing for almost no apparent reason when they stumbled in through the front door of Merlin's house, hands wrapped around each other's hips, nails digging in and leaving half moons, marking their spots for later.  
  
The kitchen was lit by the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and really, not much else.  
  
"Hello boys," Hunith called from the hallway. She appeared in the doorway and plunked down a couple of torches on the kitchen table. "Power's out. Grab a torch. I think we'll be having salad for dinner tonight, if you're staying over Arthur. Power company doesn't know when it's coming back either. I walked down to the post office and everything to ask."  
  
Distractedly, she turned away to peer into the fridge. "Scratch the salad, we're having leftovers. Some of this stuff won't last until we get the power back, not in this heat."  
  
Arthur shot Merlin a look behind Hunith's back. It was only a little condemning and a lot panicky. Merlin tried to roll his eyes reassuringly. It couldn't have been his fault. They had been in a field for pete's sake.  
  
"It was just the strangest thing," Hunith murmured, still rummaging in the fridge, pulling out random articles of food. "It didn't just go out, it sort of," she trailed off, shut the fridge, and opened the freezer, "Fizzled. Made a loud noise too. Blew out a couple of lightbulbs, but other than that it seems like everything is okay. Like I said though, power station is completely baffled and doesn't know when it's coming back. Better take a candle up to your room, Merlin."  
  
Merlin shared a worried look with Arthur. This couldn't have been their fault, or rather, his fault. Could it? "I think I am going to stay over at Arthur's tonight, Mum. Would that be alright?"  
  
Hunith set a frozen chicken on the counter. "Hmm, I suppose that's alright, but the fans won't be working either, and it's supposed to be a hot night. Perhaps you should camp out tonight? Your father and I are going to try and sleep on the beach to catch a sea breeze."  
  
"We could go back to the cave, Merlin," Arthur suggested, running a finger up and down Merlin's arm, reassuring, where Hunith couldn't see. "Sleep there for the night. The stone should keep us from getting too warm."  
  
"Excellent," Hunith pronounced as she closed the freezer door. "We might be grilling all of the frozen stuff in the freezer tonight if you would like to join us for dinner, Arthur. Invite your parents too, if you like. We'll have plenty. I'm just lucky I didn't go to the store yesterday like I said I would," she muttered offhandedly.  
  
Merlin frowned. "We're going to be upstairs Mum, see you later?" His parents knew about their relationship, and besides a lecture about being safe and not getting hurt, they mostly left Merlin alone about it. They were surprisingly cool about Merlin staying the night with Arthur, just as long as they stayed somewhat modest in public.  
  
"I’ll ask my parents, Hunith, and get back to you," Arthur said, trailing after Merlin. Merlin tugged him by the hand all the way up the stairs.  
  
"We didn't," Merlin hissed, as soon as the door closed to his room. "We couldn't have..." he trailed off.  
  
"Well I didn't exactly do anything," Arthur said in a hushed tone. "It is kind of all you, you know."  
  
Merlin punched him in the arm. "Take some responsibility too!"  
  
"You have to learn how to control your magic, Merlin." Arthur sat down on the edge of Merlin's bed.  
  
"I don't know how!" Merlin bit out, angry and scared, his heart beating wildly in his chest. "And we still don't know if it was me. Us. Whatever."  
  
Arthur shrugged helplessly. "I don't know Merlin. We just have to be careful."  
  
Merlin sighed. "Okay. Careful. We can work on practicing later. Can we talk about how my parents and your parents are going to eat dinner in the same place tonight then instead?"  
  
Arthur groaned and covered his eyes with his hands. "Kill me now," he moaned. "Maybe they won't come?"  
  
\---  
  
Unfortunately for the both of them, Igraine and Uther were delighted to meet Merlin's parents when Arthur asked them. Almost a bit too delighted, Arthur couldn't help but notice. Merlin only elbowed him when he tried to point it out though.  
  
"Just be happy that they're happy for you and be done with it," he advised. "They still run our lives for a year or so until we're free, okay?"  
  
"Whatever _Mer_ lin," Arthur tried for an obnoxious tone. Merlin just didn't understand the realm of the indifferent parents. When they took interest, it generally wasn't a good sign.  
  
Despite his worries though, Arthur was relieved to see that the meal went just fine, without any awkwardness or pointed, embarrassing questions.  
  
And no Merlin baby pictures, though Hunith reassured them that, "I have those at home!"  
  
Merlin was groaning and red-faced more than a couple of times as his parents recounted some of his funniest moments as a four year old, but Arthur got off on that subject due to the fact that he was a perfect gentleman, even as a toddler.  
  
"Of course," Merlin muttered to him, elbowing him as he did.  
  
While Uther and Igraine declined to sleeping out on the beach with Merlin's parents, they did agree to let Merlin and Arthur camp out once more.  
  
(Uther hadn't been too happy when he learned that they had left the cave early the time before, therefore not having the full camping experience)  
  
"I want you to enjoy all parts of the island," Uther told him, "even the creepy parts like the caves at night."  
  
The day had been very hot, but the night soon turned cooler, especially by the sea. The taste of salt touched everything down in the caves and coated their skin almost immediately. The humidity was pressing, heavy against their skin.  
  
"I'm glad your mum suggested this," Arthur snuggled down in his sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable against the hard rock. "It's even a comfortable temperature down here. Actually, I could get cold."  
  
"Oh no," Merlin deadpanned. "Then we'd have to share body heat so we don't die from hypothermia. The horror, the horror." Arthur flicked him on the ear for that and of course got one in return, a magical one.  
  
“Let’s just rearrange our blankets now so you don’t end up like an octopus two hours in, okay?” Arthur was already throwing open his sleeping bag and unzipping it fully. The wind was chilly against his boxer shorts and thin t-shirt. This had seemed like a much better idea as they'd sweated through the tunnel, but Arthur could already feel the chill from the stone floor seeping into him.  
  
They both laid down on Arthur’s unzipped bag and spread Merlin’s over the top of them.  
  
“Don’t hog the covers like you usually do, okay?” Merlin mumbled, pressing his face into his pillow before, despite the heat, plastering himself to Arthur’s side.  
  
“You’re sweaty,” Arthur complained halfheartedly, resting a hand on Merlin’s hip.  
  
“You’re soft,” Merlin mumbled, nestled into the crook of his neck, snuffling slightly.  
  
It was surprising how quickly Merlin dropped off to sleep, seeing how bright the half moon was, and despite the hardness of the rock beneath them.  
  
Arthur couldn’t sleep. Too much of his day was still running around in his head.  
  
Merlin had accepted his magic and moved on, but Arthur- Arthur was still amazed every time Merlin floated something instead of reaching for it. When the grass turned greener and grew faster around them, flowers appearing out of nowhere.  
  
It was unsettling how powerful Merlin was- and they still had no clue what he could do. Apparently he could knock out the entire island’s power supply.  
  
It scared him, that his sweet, gentle, sarcastic Merlin, could wave his hand and cause destruction, even accidentally. Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Merlin tried to destroy something on purpose. He was ashamed to admit that it made him want to put some space between him and a potentially angry Merlin.  
  
Merlin had welcomed the magic into his life as if it was a new pet. He thought it was wonderful even when it chewed up the carpet. Arthur wasn’t so sure.  
  
Feeling Merlin snuggled gently in his arms and knowing he had a power bubbling inside of him, an unknown force that Arthur couldn’t possibly understand, it scared Arthur. It made him pull Merlin tighter against him, making him snuffle slightly and nuzzle into Arthur’s neck.  
  
Arthur couldn’t sleep, so instead he watched the moonlight reflecting off the choppy waves, highlighting the lines of Merlin’s face with its pale touch. Arthur traced a shining cheekbone, wondering how he had found Merlin, how he could be holding this wonderful boy in his arms. How he could feel so deeply for someone. Love, maybe. Or something like it.  
  
All Arthur knew was that if he could choose anywhere to be in the world, he would want to be in Merlin’s arms, where the soft touch of his magic could soothe him and he could see Merlin’s eyes light up gold.  
  
I’m slipping, he thought recklessly. It’s too slick of a climb for me to get out now. Head over heels would be a bad way to describe it. Arse over tit sounded better. At least it described just how jumbled and raw Arthur felt, like he’d truly fallen and scraped himself all the way down, leaving him open and vulnerable.  
  
Vulnerable to Merlin’s smile, and his eyelashes against his pale cheeks, to his soft touch in the darkness and the way he laughed.  
  
They were sliding together, it seemed, but where they would stop, Arthur didn’t know.  
  
He didn’t sleep, not properly, but he fell into a haze of unseeing, only aware of the crashing of the waves around him and the sensation of his fingers carding through Merlin’s soft hair.  
  
It was a fuzzy awakening, starting only with a drone of voices.  
  
Arthur wrenched himself into consciousness. Yes, those were definitely voices. Probably coming from the cavern they had visited earlier.  
  
The words were muffled from echoing over and over, but Arthur could tell that they were in Spanish.  
  
“Wake up.” He gently shook Merlin, who pouted in his sleep. “Merlin, seriously. Las Druidas are in the ceremonial cavern.”  
  
Merlin moaned and glared at him blearily through one eye. “Really,” he finally managed to mutter sleepily. “They have to meet at night?”  
  
“Apparently. Now can we go spy on them? I don’t speak Spanish and they sound like they’re arguing.”  
  
“I want a piggyback ride,” Merlin mumbled, but allowed himself to be hauled to his feet and finally climbed onto Arthur’s back.  
  
“Don’t you dare kick me,” Arthur warned, lugging him through the caves. Merlin sighed and buried his nose in Arthur’ neck.  
  
“Just hurry up so I can go back to sleep.”  
  
It took a lot less time to find their previous hiding spot, and by the time they got there, the voices were clear enough and Merlin was awake enough to translate.  
  
He squinted at first, sifting through the words in his head before frowning.  
  
“They’re talking about the heat,” he said quietly, rubbing at his forehead. “Heat and grass. Something about crops? I didn’t know there were crops on the island... No they’re saying the grass won’t stop growing. We’re in the middle of a drought right now and the grass is growing faster than it does in springtime. They’re worried about something.”  
  
He sighed and placed his head in his hands, as if it made it easier to think. “They think... they believe there’s an outside magical power source feeding the land. From what I read in the book the blessing of the earth usually brings a small spike in the energies, but nothing strong enough to cause this.” He tuned back into the angry voices, which had gradually grown louder and more frustrated.  
  
“Someone new is talking about the lights and the power company. I get the impression that they work there. I don’t understand all the words but... overload? The lights didn’t go out because we were using too much power, but because there was too much power.”  
  
He frowned up at Arthur. “Is that even possible?”  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Apparently.”  
  
“Augh, I don’t understand.” The voices were cutting above each other, back and forth in bitter argument, before being swallowed up in a clamor of about a dozen voices joining in. “I think that’s all we’re going to get,” Merlin whispered. They slipped back into the tunnel, not talking until they were both wrapped up in the sleeping bags again just outside the entrance to the passageway to Arthur’s house.  
  
“This could be bad,” Merlin said, his face ashen. “The book says that messing with earth magic can easily turn tragic. Nature being the strongest force and all that.”  
  
Arthur stared at him. “Merlin,” he said finally, “you are the one that is upsetting the balance. Your magic is feeding into the earth. It’s probably causing the heat wave and the grass to grow so fast. Remember the flowers?”  
  
Merlin winced and shut his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded tired. “Arthur, I’m just a kid. I only recently realized that magic exists, let alone me having any sort of magic.”  
  
“That doesn’t make any difference,” Arthur argued. “It’s still happening all around you, can’t you see?”  
  
“Stop it Arthur,” Merlin snapped. “Can we just go to sleep and not worry about the stupid Druids. Long grass and flowers never hurt anyone.”  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur started, but Merlin turned away from him.  
  
“I want to sleep,” he said firmly. “Let’s go to sleep. Please, Arthur? For me?” His voice had turned pleading and Arthur couldn’t deny him.  
  
“Okay,” he said finally. “Sleep. But we can’t. Merlin. You can’t just keep ignoring it.” He smoothed a hand over Merlin’s face in the dark, pulling him closer, so that their bodies were aligned. “Sleep, I’ve got you.”  
  
It was almost the end of July, Arthur realized, as they woke up blinking in the dawn sunlight. Summer was nearing its end.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin was annoyed. It was one thing for Arthur to be concerned over his magic, hell Merlin was concerned over his magic, but it was another to get extremely worked up over it and refuse sex until Merlin could control his magic enough to stem his reactions.  
  
Well, not actual sex involving condoms and large amounts of lube. Because they weren’t ready for that yet, or at least they hadn’t discussed it, besides Arthur’s _very_ dirty talking while jerking Merlin off.  
  
Anyway.  
  
So Merlin was forced into _exercises_. As if his magic was a muscle he could train like Arthur trained for football. It was frustrating and _hard_ , in some ways more than others.  
  
First Arthur would just touch him and stop every time his eyes changed color. _That_ left Merlin wanting to punch him in the face and finally made him go sulk in a corner.  
  
After abandoning that tactic, Arthur made Merlin float a teacup in the air while kissing. Annoying at first, this seemed to help. It gave Merlin’s magic something to focus on instead of trying to make everything conductible light up within a ten mile radius of him.  
  
This culminated into an achingly slow wank as they both watched the teacup move up and down in the air, following the pace of Arthur’s hand.  
  
“This is actually really, really fascinating,” Arthur commented absently, apparently more absorbed in the fact that the cup started to twirl in circles instead of the fact that his hand was slowing on Merlin’s dick.  
  
“Oh my god, _I’m going to kill you_ ,” Merlin bit out, covering his eyes with a pillow. “Would you just get on with it please?”  
  
“Oh don’t be like that,” Arthur teased, prying at the pillow and finally plying Merlin with a soft kiss. “You’re doing so well! Haven’t even broken my mother’s favorite lamp yet.”  
  
Merlin growled at him, which finally made Arthur grip him tighter.  
  
“And here’s your reward,” Arthur said lightly, pace changing to rough and fast, just what Merlin needed.  
  
The cup smashed to the floor as Merlin came.  
  
When he finally opened his eyes, Arthur’s mouth was pursed into a frown.  
  
“We’ll have to work on that, I suppose. And I don’t suppose you could help me out here?” He gestured to the front of his shorts where his erection was clearly evident.  
  
Merlin scowled at him. “The magic didn’t make the cup drop. It was the lack of magic. I pulled the magic off. That’s what made it fall.”  
  
“Good, that’s good!” Arthur smiled, with a bit too much teeth. “Blowjob now?”  
  
“Bossy,” Merlin muttered, but sat up so he could unbutton the top of Arthur’s shorts.  
  
It was a rough job, but someone had to do it.  
  
Despite all the nagging and the fact that Merlin was more than a little annoyed by Arthur’s doggedness, he was grudgingly learning how to control his magic.  
  
To be safe though, they kept most of their liaisons outdoors, if only to save Igraine’s favorite lamp. Unfortunately, this usually resulted in sunburns in very suspicious places, but at least Merlin was getting a little color.  
  
A cloudy day found them listless and sated in the grass, Merlin more or less sprawled across Arthur’s chest despite the heat.  
  
“We should try it, you know,” Merlin said lazily, rubbing his lips back and forth against Arthur’s chest.  
  
“Hmm?” Arthur managed, apparently floating a little in the heat and flush of his recent orgasm. (Not literally, though that was prone to happen.)  
  
“Sex involving lube and condoms,” Merlin whispered, a thrill running through him despite his even tone. “Like you’ve been fucking whispering in my ear for the past hour.”  
  
“Oh you mean fucking!” Merlin could hear the grin in Arthur’s voice. “Well I think we’ve already established that you want to bottom.”  
  
Merlin hit at him weakly. “Hate you,” he muttered, closing his eyes as his face flushed.  
  
“No you don’t,” Arthur said fondly, and then pushed back a lock of hair from Merlin’s face, trailing down to lift Merlin’s chin until he opened his eyes. “You love me.”  
  
Arthur should have looked vulnerable, Merlin decided, his face open and honest, but didn’t, only strong and proud, and, oh, Merlin _did_ love him. Fiercely, even. Like a great wave welling up in his chest and expanding, leaving him overwhelmed and like he was riding along on a speeding train without brakes.  
  
“Oh,” he said quietly, in wonder. “I do love you.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes and let go of Merlin’s chin. “You’re very slow, _Me_ rlin. Don’t worry I already knew you loved me back.”  
  
Merlin’s lips twitched as he tried not to grin. “Love you back?”  
  
Arthur gave him a fondly exasperated look. “I love you too, you great gibbering idiot,” he said softly.  
  
Merlin wrinkled his nose at the insult but couldn’t stop his smile. Unable to help himself, he buried his nose in Arthur’s chest again, breathing in his scent of faint cologne and sweat.  
  
He was enjoying the warm silence and Arthur’s arms holding him when Arthur broke it rather rudely by talking.  
  
“We need lube and condoms then,” Arthur mused, tightening his arm briefly.  
  
Merlin groaned. “We’re going to have to buy them at that little pharmacy with the creepy old man aren’t we?”  
  
Arthur laughed. “You mean you’re going to buy them? I definitely don’t know the word for lube in Spanish.”  
  
Merlin groaned again. “And you think I do?”  
  
Arthur just laughed harder.  
  
Merlin smacked him, which didn’t help the situation at all. “Fine, you’re paying,” he mumbled, laying his head back down.  
  
Arthur sighed underneath him, making his head rise up and down. “I suppose that does sound fair.”  
  
\---  
  
It seemed even more fair to Arthur as he waited outside the pharmacy with his hands jammed in his pockets, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
Merlin had tried to convince him to come in as ‘moral support,’ but Arthur convinced him that it would just look weird. Plus the old, wrinkly pharmacist skeeved Arthur out. Something about his creepy eyes.  
  
Arthur tried to walk by and just casually look in the window. Merlin looked slightly frantic, and he seemed to be gesturing something while the old man looked confused.  
  
Merlin was as red as a tomato when he walked out holding a little paper bag and scowling at Arthur. “I kept trying to explain but he didn’t know what lubricante meant and kept trying to give me massage oil,” he finally mumbled when Arthur prodded him. “Luckily it didn’t get to graphic descriptions before I spotted a bottle on the very far shelf. Good thing the old bat knew what condoms were, though having him ask what _size_ and _style_ was completely mortifying, Arthur, and you’d better make this so worth my while because right now all I want to do is crawl into a hole and _die_.”  
  
Arthur gave him a serious look. “You got extra large, didn’t you?”  
  
Merlin slapped the paper bag against his chest, making Arthur catch it. “No, extra small you wanker.”  
  
Arthur peeked into the bag and was relieved to see the _Grande_ written on the side of the purple box.  
  
“Mortified,” Merlin muttered again, the blush still on his cheeks. “Let’s go and test drive something. Make sure I didn’t buy the tingly lube.”  
  
Arthur grabbed him by the back pocket as they walked, slipping his hand in to bring their hips flush and bumping together. “I would be honored to be the one to shove tingly lube up your-”  
  
Merlin’s hand clapped over his mouth. “Oh my god Arthur,” he muttered sharply. “We are in _public_ , do you have no shame?!”  
  
Arthur coughed and Merlin moved his hand. “Yes, sometimes. But it makes your blushing cheeks so lovely.”  
  
Arthur was the one blushing now, and Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
“Let’s go lover boy,” Merlin sighed, wrapping an arm around Arthur’s waist. “We’ve got lube to try out.”  
  
It was not, in fact, the tingly lube (which Arthur had heard horror stories about), or the heating lube either, but just the regular lube, which was nice enough in Arthur’s book.  
  
Actually, nice wasn’t strong enough of a word. It was fantastic lube. So fantastic that they didn’t even get to the condoms that first time, so they were left a completely sweaty, sticky mess in the middle of the meadow that they had chosen.  
  
“I’m so glad we brought a beach towel,” Merlin muttered, trying not to move as he traced patterns on Arthur’s chest, because there was come and lube drying on his stomach and it was very uncomfortable. “I would probably be covered in grass by this point.”  
  
“I think you have lube in your hair,” Arthur said skeptically. “I’m not sure how it got there, but I’m pretty sure it’s there.”  
  
Merlin looked at him, exasperated, before his eyes flared gold and everything messy and sticky disappeared.  
  
Arthur sighed in relief. “You could have done that ages ago you know.”  
  
Merlin laughed. “Magic and orgasmic aftermath don’t exactly go well together Arthur. You had to wait for me to come down from my high, you big baby.”  
  
Arthur ran his hands through Merlin’s hair, ignoring him. “I’ll have to use less lube next time, otherwise you’ll be making a trip back to the pharmacist pretty soon.”  
  
“I’m making you come in next time,” Merlin said sullenly. “You’re the one that’s wasting all the lube.”  
  
“The bottle was slippery!” Arthur protested. “I couldn’t help it.”  
  
Merlin huffed, his fingers still tracing lines on Arthur’s chest.  
  
“You enjoyed it though, I know you did,” Arthur teased him, trailing fingernails down Merlin’s back, making him shiver.  
  
Merlin raised his head to glare at him. “I never said I didn’t! Just that it was a lot of lube.”  
  
Arthur smirked at him. Merlin laid his head back down (a bit too hard for Arthur’s liking) and huffed.  
  
Arthur ran the pads of his fingers down Merlin’s back, feeling each vertebrae bumping under his fingertips. “You know it’s going to hurt more than two fingers, right?” he murmured softly.  
  
Merlin mumbled something into his chest, hitching himself uncomfortably.  
  
“What was that? I didn’t catch that,” Arthur bent his head forward until Merlin looked up to catch his gaze.  
  
“I said I know,” Merlin said, all the sullenness gone from his face. “But I trust you.”  
  
Arthur felt like his chest was going to burst and he couldn’t stop the smile on his face. “I love you,” he said softly, brushing Merlin face with his hand.  
  
“Me too,” Merlin admitted, almost shyly.  
  
Arthur ran his fingers over Merlin’s lips, studying the shape, pressing lightly into the crease.  
  
“It’s almost dinner time,” he finally said, sighing and lowering his hand.  
  
Merlin groaned and flopped onto the ground next to Arthur. “You know just what to say to ruin the mood, don’t you Arthur?”  
  
Arthur swallowed hard, missing the heavy feeling of Merlin on his chest. “You know me, I try.”  
  
\---  
  
It was cloudy the next time they made it out to what Merlin privately called “their meadow.”  
  
Arthur was leading him by the hand, gently, a large beach towel  floating along behind them, wrapped up around some essential supplies.  
  
When they found a good spot, the towel spread itself out on the grass, leaving its contents scattered in the middle.  
  
There was a small pillow, condoms, Merlin’s ipod, and the lube.  
  
“Planning on some romantic music, Merlin?” Arthur murmured as he settled down crosslegged on the towel.  
  
“Shut up,” Merlin muttered, sitting down and grabbing his music player, scrolling through a list before jabbing with his thumb. “I’m actually nervous, okay?”  
  
Arthur’s face softened. He reached over to pull Merlin into his lap, leaning down to bury his face in Merlin’s neck. “Me too,” he said quietly against the skin there. “But I’m a prat, remember?”  
  
“I do,” Merlin smiled. Soft music was swelling out of his ipod, putting Merlin at ease, causing his muscles to loosen. “This is actually my playlist for when I can’t sleep. I need to relax for this okay?”  
  
“I can help you with that,” Arthur promised, placing one hand on his shoulder, massaging into the muscle with his thumb.  
  
“I’m serious,” Merlin said, shrugging Arthur off slightly, though he didn't exactly want him to stop. “I’ve heard it can go really badly the first time or can be painful, so just shut up and let me listen to the music okay?”  
  
It was easy to tell Arthur this, to trust him with his insecurities and fears. It was even easier to crane his head upwards to press his lips against Arthur’s, to push him onto his back and crawl over him, Arthur whispering, “Okay,” against his lips.  
  
They went slowly, two songs passing before Merlin stripped Arthur out of his shirt, humming slightly as he traced his fingers across Arthur’s chest.  
  
“Stop teasing,” Arthur growled, plucking at Merlin’s clothes, gently pulling Merlin’s shirt off and helping him out of his shorts and boxers.  
  
“Lay down,” Arthur whispered hoarsely, and Merlin did, a bit numbly, barely feeling the towel and pillow underneath him as Arthur cracked open the bottle of lube.  
  
It was a lot of fingers, of careful probing and Merlin panting, trying to stay still and clutching at the towel underneath him.  
  
It was a bit of a burn, a deep building pressure and pleasure as Arthur loomed above him, nipping at his lips in time to the movement of his fingers, Merlin's nails digging into Arthur’s forearm, clutching him tight and groaning, never wanting it to stop, wanting more.  
  
“I love you,” Arthur said softly, against his lips, Merlin barely hearing.  
  
“You too,” he said in between gasps. “Really do, Arthur.”  
  
The tempo changed, Arthur moving more slowly, stretching, testing.  
  
"Okay?" Arthur asked, his fingers questioning.  
  
"Okay," Merlin managed, took a deep breath, and tried to relax.  
  
Arthur's fingers left him empty and wanting. Merlin whimpered as Arthur quickly pulled off the rest of his clothing before turning Merlin onto his side, spooning up behind him, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth.  
  
Arthur slowly slid in, inch by inch, Merlin panting underneath him, trying not to wince and failing miserably.  
  
It hurt. Oh god it hurt. But the feeling- Merlin had never felt so close to someone. Arthur was under his skin, his scent surrounding him, Arthur's taste on his tongue, filling him up, an overwhelming surge of emotion causing him to turn his head desperately to find Arthur's lips, open in a wordless gasp. Merlin grappled a bit, but managed to catch Arthur's lips against his, sealing them as Arthur ran a gentle hand up and down his side.  
  
The sting faded, leaving behind the delicious feeling of pressure and warmth and _Arthur_.  
  
Arthur pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together. "You ready?" he whispered. Merlin swallowed, feeling the warmth sizzle in his gut, and wound his fingers through one of Arthur's hands. He nodded.  
  
After, they sprawled across the blanket, both of them too boneless to move, Arthur with his chin on Merlin’s chest, fingers moving idly, tracing pathways onto skin.  
  
Merlin’s ipod was crooning, almost forgotten, around them, a slow song that built into a pulsing rhythm, the singer begging to “give him love.”  
  
“All I want, is the taste your lips allow,” Merlin half sang, half whispered into Arthur’s hair.  
  
Arthur looked up at him, amused. “I’m pretty sure you want more than that, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin grinned. “Yes, in fact, I do. I want the whole package.” His voice was hushed, low, as if not wanting anyone else to hear, to share in this moment.  
  
Arthur reached up to cradle his cheek in one hand, stroking with his thumb in time with the music. Merlin could feel himself falling apart, waves crashing against him, like a boat in a storm, being coaxed away from the dock and into the ocean.  
  
Walking back home hand in hand, with the towel (magically cleaned) slung over Arthur’s shoulder, Merlin felt different. Yes, he was a little sore, but he felt new and shiny, experiencing the world with a softer focus than he usually did. His magic was fizzling happily inside of him, like a sparkler in his chest.  
  
They took the long way back, along the beach, enjoying the sun glinting off the water. It wasn’t late enough for it to set yet, but it was still spectacular.  
  
Merlin bumped his shoulder into Arthur’s, humming happily as he laid his head on his shoulder, snuggling into his neck a little.  
  
About ten meters from Merlin’s house, Hunith appeared on the back porch and called out to them. Not being able to hear her, they disentangled their fingers to jog up to the porch.  
  
“Boys?” she was calling. “Are you alright? Get inside, quickly, there are tsunami warnings all over the news.”  
  
“What?” Merlin asked sharply as they climbed the step. “Mum, what’s happening?”  
  
“It was the earthquake,” Hunith explained worriedly, grabbing at Merlin’s t-shirt and hauling him towards the door. “Come along Arthur, you go inside too. Your Mum and Dad are safe at the country club, but will want to know that you’re okay. They didn’t want to drive home in case of aftershocks.”  
  
Merlin stopped dead in the hallway, horrified, and Arthur grabbed his arm, too hard. Their shared look was wild with panic and fear.  
  
“Mum, when was the earthquake?” Merlin tried to ask calmly. His breathing had gone shallow and his blood was spiking with adrenaline.  
  
“Power cut out again,” Hunith was saying as she ushered them into the kitchen, “but the station got it up and working. Now they’re telling us to stay indoors in case of a tsunami, but that could be dangerous if there’s another earthquake. There were only a couple of aftershocks, not very strong. Your father’s at the store, buying another round of torches since the ones we have seem to have burnt out.”  
  
His mother was making some sort of dough, and her hands fell onto it immediately, mixing and kneading at it with a nervous energy as she said something about a house down the road.  
  
“Mum,” Merlin said sharply, cutting over her. “When was the earthquake?”  
  
Hunith looked at him strangely, her hands stilling. “Didn’t you feel it? It was about two hours ago. They’re saying on the telly that it was a 4.5 magnitude earthquake. Where were you all afternoon?”  
  
Merlin grew very still, Arthur’s nails digging into his biceps. “We were in the meadow,” he said finally. “Just hanging out.”  
  
Hunith looked confused, and then suspicious, but turned back to her dough. “Okay dear. You can go watch the news if you want, just stay indoors.”  
  
Arthur tugged at him, pulling him out of the kitchen and practically pushing him up the stairs, Merlin stumbling at the top as Arthur herded him into his room.  
  
“You’re hurting me,” Merlin muttered and Arthur let go of him abruptly and closed the door.  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur said softly, warningly.  
  
“It wasn’t me!” Merlin bit out, panicked. “I didn’t do it Arthur.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Arthur asked intently, crowding up into Merlin’s space, driving him back towards the wall. “Can you be absolutely positive?”  
  
Merlin slumped backwards and leaned on the wall. “No,” he whispered. “I didn’t even feel the energy surge. We must have been at the epicenter. I’ve just been doing so well before that I forgot to find something to concentrate on.” Arthur had softened, stepping back so he wasn’t so much in Merlin’s space.  
  
“We need to find a way to contact Las Druidas,” Arthur said worriedly, running a hand through his hair.  
  
Merlin nodded numbly. “I’ll try to sneak out to the caves tonight and see if I can find them.”  
  
Arthur looked at him sharply. “You mean we will.”  
  
Merlin scowled at him, annoyed. “You’ve already made it clear that this is my fault.”  
  
Arthur stepped into his space again, this time to wrap an arm around Merlin’s waist and pull him close. “I’m half at fault too,” he said softly into Merlin’s hair. “Of course I’m coming with you.”  
  
Merlin shook him off, not wanting his sympathy. “I’m not getting you into this. I’m the one with magic, and I’m at fault. Besides, you’re the vulnerable one.”  
  
Arthur glared at him. “I am not vulnerable,” he bit out.  
  
“Yes you are,” Merlin insisted, stubbornness rising up in him. “You don’t have an all seeing power inside of you wanting to get through. I won’t let you.”  
  
Arthur bristled. “They’re not your caves, Merlin,” he said angrily. “I can come if I want to.”  
  
“I will magically prevent you from coming then,” Merlin grit his teeth. “This is not your battle.”  
  
“Neither is it yours!” Arthur shouted, balling his hands into fists. “Las Druidas are probably extremely strong magic users and I don’t want you-”  
  
The lightbulb snapped off with a tinkle of glass.  
  
Arthur and Merlin just stared at it, breathing heavily. Merlin could feel his eyes fading from gold to blue.  
  
Arthur’s lips twisted into a disgusted frown. “I told you you had to practice more.”  
  
Merlin glared at him. “Get out,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.  
  
Arthur glared back. “I’m supposed to stay here, Merlin, or have you forgotten that my parents are stuck at the country club?”  
  
“Then get out of my room,” Merlin gritted out, each word cleanly bitten off.  
  
Arthur stared at him for a handful of long, drawn-out seconds before storming to the door and slamming it on his way out.  
  
Merlin was still breathing heavily when he heard Arthur start up a conversation with his mother downstairs.  
  
He punched a pillow and flopped down on his bed to seethe.

  


\---  
  
Arthur ended up watching the news in the living room with Hunith, them soon being joined by Balinor, who was weighed down with about a dozen new torches.  
  
“Be prepared and all,” Balinor intoned, setting them all down on the kitchen table. “Where’s Merlin?”  
  
“He’s up in his room, having a proper sulk,” Hunith said cheerfully from her place on the couch. “Arthur’s probably staying for dinner. His parents still haven’t called.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Mum is probably taking advantage of their massages while they’re slow on business. Can’t go through an earthquake stressed, you know.”  
  
Hunith shrugged lightly. “That’s one way of dealing with things.”  
  
Balinor snorted, but didn’t say anything.  
  
Besides Hunith leaving occasionally to check on dinner, it was quiet and peaceful watching the newspeople get increasingly more frantic as they covered the earthquake and discussed every minute detail at length.  
  
Merlin finally came down for dinner when Hunith called him, but he was sullen and quiet, his eyes slightly red.  
  
Dinner wasn’t too horrible of an affair: Hunith didn’t ask him any embarrassing questions and Balinor told them of the hike he had taken up the small peak on the far side of the island. Both of them did a pretty good job of ignoring the sulking teenager sitting between them.  
  
Arthur wasn’t angry at Merlin anymore. It was easy to follow him up to his room, catching the door before it closed in his face. “Merlin,” he said softly, pushing his way inside.  
  
Merlin was already lying down on the bed, glaring at the ceiling, arms crossed.  
  
Failing at pushing him over, Arthur climbed over the far side of the bed to lie on Merlin’s other side. He had to lie on his side to keep from falling off, propping his head up on one hand.  
  
“Merlin,” he said softly, placing a hand on his chest. “Stop sulking, it’s far too attractive.”  
  
He rubbed his thumb over Merlin’s lips just as he cracked a smile. “I’m still mad at you,” Merlin said through his smirk.  
  
“Of course you are,” Arthur said, sighing. “And I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you meet creepy witches and warlocks alone no matter how many lightbulbs you knock out or earthquakes you cause.”  
  
Merlin’s lips twisted into a grimace of disbelief. “I don’t like it,” he muttered.  
  
Arthur gave him a look. “I trust you. I even trust your magic. You can keep me safe Merlin.”  
  
Merlin sighed and wrapped his arms around Arthur, hugging him close. “We should really wait until tomorrow,” he whispered. “All I want is for you to be safe Arthur.”  
  
Arthur’s lips pursed. “They meet at night though. How about we go at dawn?”  
  
“That sounds fine, Arthur,” Merlin said quietly. “Where are we sleeping tonight?”  
  
Arthur snuggled into the crook of Merlin’s neck. “This is comfy. How about we sleep here?”  
  
Merlin laughed. “Arthur, it’s not time for bed yet; we just finished dinner!”  
  
Arthur wriggled tighter, moving his arms into a loose embrace. “Well get a book or something then, because I’m pretty much set to snuggle you all night.”  
  
Merlin leaned towards him to nuzzle into Arthur’s blond hair. Arthur was pretty sure he smelled like sweat and a hint of sex. “We should really take showers first. Magical clean is not squeaky clean and we’re going to be sleeping in this twin size bed.”  
  
Arthur swallowed nervously, dragging his hand across Merlin’s chest. “We can use my shower when I go over to get some pajamas and clean my teeth.”  
  
“Hmm,” Merlin hummed. “You mean together?”  
  
Arthur lifted his head to smile at him. “You’re stinky too, Merlin,” he teased.  
  
Merlin wrinkled his nose. “Am not. Nothing’s wrong with a little sweat.”  
  
Arthur shrugged, laying his head back down. “Suit yourself.”  
  
Merlin laughed suddenly. “As if I could turn away from a shower with you! When can we go over?”  
  
Arthur smirked. “Whenever we want?”  
  
Merlin pushed at him and Arthur nearly fell off the bed as he got up. “Let’s go then.”  
  
“Your parents called,” Hunith said to Arthur as they explained to them where they were going (Arthur’s house to get pjs and a sleeping bag for propriety’s sake). “They said they would be home in about an hour or two.”  
  
“Thanks Mrs. Emrys!” Arthur shouted as they hurried out the door.  
  
“Just enough time,” Merlin sighed as Arthur let them into the front door.  
  
Arthur had an en suite bathroom, which was extremely nice except for the fact that it was decorated with race car wallpaper and different race car accents.  
  
It was a little embarrassing, yes, but it was great for being able to wander from the shower to his bed naked.  
  
The shower wasn’t the biggest, but they both still fit in it. Merlin was beautiful with water dripping down from his hair, running in lines down his chest.  
  
Arthur had to quickly cover him in soap suds to keep from saying something extremely soppy and unwarranted.  
  
Merlin had wonderful fingers, he thought with a happy sigh as Merlin massaged shampoo into his hair, working at his temples and the base of his neck, finally peppering little kisses there, probably getting soap in his mouth.  
  
Instead of rinsing, Arthur had to pin him to the wall and kiss him, and yes, he did get soap in his mouth, and shampoo in his eye, which was a bitch to rinse out while Merlin was plastered along his back, demanding if he was done with the water yet.  
  
Merlin was being a tease and a bloody good one at that, because it ended in Arthur pinning him on his back in the tub, the spray of water cascading over them as Arthur slid his mouth wetly over Merlin’s cock, two fingers curling softly up into Merlin’s body.  
  
It was unhurried and slow, almost languid, the hot water beating patterns into the skin of Arthur’s back as he memorized how Merlin felt under his hand, his tongue.  
  
And then how Merlin’s tongue had felt in his mouth as he was smoothly jerking Arthur off.  
  
They’d missed the point of the shower completely (the getting clean part), but seeing as they were in a shower, it was pretty easy to clean up after themselves.  
  
Merlin hadn’t even burnt out the bathroom light. Perhaps his magic was still tired?  
  
It was sweet, Arthur decided, as he drifted off in Merlin’s twin bed. They were intertwined carefully, mindful of the heat, watches set to wake them just before dawn. Merlin was sweet.  
  
His parents approved of him, had told Arthur more than once they enjoyed having Merlin around, watching how he made Arthur happy.  
  
Arthur could see his future with Merlin in it. He liked that idea very much. Finally, he let himself consider the possibilities. Maybe they could get into the same university. Get a flat nearby, be roommates? Move in together. Share rent and a bed and have lunch dates and bring Merlin coffee when he was tired, and wake up to his scrunched up sleepy face every morning.  
  
Arthur fell asleep smiling.  
  
He was alert almost instantly when the beeping of his wristwatch woke him up.  
  
Merlin was still sleeping next to him, mouth open and breathing heavily, clinging along Arthur’s right side.  
  
The twin bed really was too small to share comfortably, so they’d had to hold onto each other through the night in order to not fall off.  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur poked him in the ribs. “Wake up. We’re going to the caves.”  
  
Merlin mumbled something rude and swatted at him before finally opening his eyes and staring Arthur down.  
  
“Magic. Earthquake. Let’s go.” Arthur pulled himself out of Merlin’s embrace and stretched before climbing out of bed.  
  
Merlin curled into a ball behind him, nestling into the covers, reaching out to catch Arthur’s wrist and pull it close to him, cuddling his hand until Arthur stroked him softly.  
  
“Okay,” Merlin sighed and sat up, letting Arthur go.  
  
They dressed in near silence, each collecting a torch and a slice of toast from the kitchen.  
  
Merlin left his mother a vague note just in case she woke up to find them gone. She probably wouldn’t be happy about them going to the caves after the earthquake.  
  
Leaving footprints behind them in the wet sand, it was a short walk to the caves, a brilliant sun rising behind them, birds cawing gently between the crashing of the waves.  
  
“There was no moon last night,” Arthur said, hushed.  
  
Merlin nodded. “New moon,” he murmured as they slipped into the caves.  
  
They didn’t hear any chanting or any other signs of life. The meeting cavern was empty, although there were fresh footprints in the sand on the floor.  
  
Not giving up, they wandered from room to room, down the hallways, trying to make sense of the patterns of glowing moss.  
  
They ended up in the altar room and decided to take a break. Arthur hopped up on the altar and started kicking his feet idly against the stone.  
  
“The first time we came here made me feel horrible,” he admitted conversationally. Merlin hopped up next to him. “Do you think it was because of the magic?”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Dunno. But you’re fine now, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Arthur nodded. “Doesn’t feel weird at all. Feels good to be here with you.” He turned to grin at Merlin.  
  
“Mmm,” Merlin said, smiling too, leaning forward to kiss Arthur. Arthur pulled quickly away.  
  
“Sorry,” he said. “Just feels wrong here.”  
  
Merlin pouted. “That’s a lame excuse,” he said pointedly.  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Maybe it’s just the morning. It’s putting me off.”  
  
Merlin scowled and bumped at his shoulder. “Why do we always have this stuff between us?”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow, confused. “Stuff?”  
  
“Shit,” Merlin amends. “Messed up shit. We always have to be careful and watching and in control, or rather _I_ do while you just enjoy it,” he said bitterly.  
  
Arthur pursed his lips. “Merlin, you know why-”  
  
“Well, it sucks!” Merlin said loudly. “If I want to kiss you and you want to kiss me, then we should bloody well snog already.”  
  
Arthur rubbed his hand at his forehead, feeling his anger growing. “It's not that simple Merlin.”  
  
“Of course it’s not. It’s always fucking complicated. And you like it that way, don’t you?” Merlin bit out.  
  
“Stop taking this out on me,” Arthur gritted his teeth. “You think I like this?”  
  
Merlin eyed him, like he was trying to decide. “I just think we should snog,” he said and viciously pulled Arthur into an open-mouthed, rough kiss.  
  
It might have been nice, if Arthur hadn’t felt so uneasy or Merlin’s lips hadn’t knocked hard into his own. But Arthur’s lips stung and he could feel something jumbling inside of him, moving along his skin, making him restless. He bit not exactly gently down on Merlin’s tongue.  
  
And then everything exploded.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin felt his eyes turning gold, his magic flaring hot inside his skin, just before it tightened up, stealing his breath as it exploded out of his body, sending him flying back and skidding along the stone floor. The ground was shuddering beneath him, and he felt like he was balancing on a surf board in the ocean, lying on his back, flat on the ground.  
  
Rock dust trickled from the ceiling and he coughed, his magic curling feeble and spluttering in his chest, leaving him weak and shaky. His back felt bruised and scraped all up and down.  
  
The ground had stopped moving, but it took him two tries before he could get to his feet.  
  
Arthur was lying crumpled against the opposite wall, blood already trickling into his closed eyes, one arm tilted wrong.  
  
Choking, Merlin rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside Arthur, afraid to touch, not wanting to hurt him more.  
  
“Arthur,” he croaked, laying his palm against Arthur’s face. Arthur stirred slightly but didn’t open his eyes.  
  
“Arthur!” he said more loudly, leaning forward to inspect the gash in Arthur’s hair, quickly oozing blood, running like tear tracks down Arthur’s cheeks.  
  
Panicked, Merlin stripped off his t-shirt. His magic, as weak and weary as it was, was two steps ahead of him, dissolving it into strips of cloth. Merlin pressed a couple to Arthur’s forehead, applying pressure as Arthur groaned and moved under his hands.  
  
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, and the ground shuddered again. He looked around, panicked. He hadn’t caused that.  
  
Arthur opened his eyes. “Merlin,” he mumbled, and lifted his left hand to pat at his head and the mess of Merlin’s hands and bandages. “My arm hurts,” he said hoarsely, looking down at his right arm, how it was twisted.  
  
“I think you broke it,” Merlin whispered, feeling the tears stinging at his eyes start to slip down his cheeks. “I mean I broke it. I mean-”  
  
“Ouch!” Arthur cried out, and pushed weakly at Merlin’s hands with his good arm. “I’ll do that. You try to tie up my arm.”  
  
The tears were flowing freely now, and Merlin couldn’t even see the ball of t-shirt strips in his hands. His magic took over, caressing Arthur and gently binding his forearm to his chest.  
  
Arthur shivered under its touch, whether from shock or from the fact that it had just thrown him across the room, Merlin didn’t know.  
  
Merlin took over putting pressure on Arthur’s head wound as he hoisted him off the ground. The floor shook.  
  
Arthur turned even paler. “Was that-”  
  
“No,” Merlin cut him off, wrapping one arm around Arthur’s waist, and holding steady pressure to Arthur’s bandage with the other. He blinked passed the blinding tears as they hobbled out of the cave: it seemed like Merlin had twisted one ankle while Arthur had done something to his knee.  
  
But it had been him, it was him. He had done it. He had lashed out, thrown Arthur across the room, caused another earthquake. He had- Arthur had bitten him, he had been angry, it had been defensive, his magic retaliating, but he had been angry. And it was his anger that had thrown Arthur against the wall.  
  
Merlin choked back more tears as he moved them as fast as he could through the caves and onto the sandy beach.  
  
They both stopped, struck.  
  
The air was hot and close, thick and smelling of sulfur and burning.  
  
“The mountain,” Arthur said, hushed, scared.  
  
It wasn’t a mountain anymore. It was a smoke-belching, sparking, glowing in the morning light, _volcano_.  
  
“Shit,” Merlin breathed, practically picking Arthur off his feet and hauling ass towards the Pendragon house, barely even breathing, not daring to let himself think.  
  
They had slowed down considerably as they got closer to their houses, Arthur walking with a considerable limp. Merlin saw a figure run out of his house and towards them, feeling like he could breathe easier when he saw that it was his father.  
  
“Boys!” Balinor shouted as he ran up to them. “Are you alright? What happened?”  
  
Merlin winced. “Arthur’s broken his arm and has a head wound. Dad, the _volcano_.”  
  
Balinor didn’t look behind him, mouth set in a grim line. “I know,” he said shortly, relieving Merlin’s place at Arthur’s side, putting a strong arm around him. “Keep pressure on that wound. I heard it blow, the whole town must have too. When your mother didn’t find you two in your bed, she almost had a heart attack.”  
  
He was quick marching them to Arthur’s porch, and Merlin saw Uther appear in the doorway in a dressing gown before he rushed down to help his son.  
  
“Let’s get him inside,” he snapped, taking Merlin’s place, cradling Arthur’s head gently.  
  
Merlin stood there, hovering as the two men hauled Arthur up the steps and through the door.  
  
“Arthur,” he choked out, and Arthur turned his head as much as he could back towards him, managing a weak smile.  
  
“Get inside the house,” Balinor barked as they maneuvered the screen door.  
  
“But-” Merlin was cut off.  
  
“Go to your mother NOW!”  
  
Merlin tore his gaze away and ran towards his own porch, sand spraying wildly, heart pounding rabbit fast in his chest.  
  
He clattered up the steps, throwing open the door to be pulled into a hard hug from his mother.  
  
“Where have you been?!” she scolded, relief evident in her tight hold. “That note wasn’t nearly helpful! Merlin, you can’t just go running off at dawn without telling anyone, and for good reason! Merlin! Are you listening?”  
  
Merlin choked, the tears coming back.  
  
His mum pulled back, looking into his face. “What’s wrong Merlin?” she asked softly.  
  
Merlin sobbed, just once, then took a deep breath. “It’s Arthur, Mum,” he whispered, voice broken. “He’s been hurt. A broken arm and a gash on his head. I wanted him to go to the cave, Mum, I asked him there.” He couldn’t tell her the truth, he couldn’t say that he had done it, that he had been the one to hurt Arthur.  
  
“Merlin, Merlin,” his mother murmured, pulling him close to her, nestling him against her chest. “It’s not your fault Merlin; it’s not your fault. Shhhh,” she soothed. “Where are you hurt?”  
  
Merlin clung tightly to her, foolishly feeling safe pressed up against her breasts and in her warm embrace. “Nowhere,” he mumbled. “Nowhere, Mum, nowhere.”  
  
Carefully, she moved them to the couch in the living room, stroking his hair as he cried into her shirt- apparently his parents had had time to change out of their nightclothes.  
  
The news flickered and chattered behind him, the news anchor sounding unsure.  
  
Balinor rushed into the house, sitting down abruptly in an armchair, balancing his elbows on his knees as he tried to concentrate on the news.  
  
Merlin suddenly realized that his own hands were stained with blood. Arthur’s blood.  
  
“Dad,” he croaked out. “How’s Arthur?”  
  
Balinor blew out a short breath. “Fine. They’re being med-evacced out as soon as possible. He’ll be on one of the first helicopters out. Unfortunately for the rest of us, the ferries are not running this early, and can only run one at a time due to the tsunami warnings. People are being evacuated according to their proximity to the summit. It’s only spewing ash right now, but that’s dangerous enough.”  
  
“The whole town is between us and the mountain,” Hunith pointed out, disapproving. Balinor nodded.  
  
“Exactly. Both of you pack a bag. Clothes for a couple of days, valuables you can carry. Things you can’t live without. We might not be leaving until tonight, but we need to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”  
  
Merlin extracted himself from his mother, being careful of his bloody hands as he levered himself into a standing position.  
  
Silently, he walked up the stairs to scrub the blood off his hands and put together a bag of clothes.  
  
The pillow still held the indent of two heads.  
  
Merlin haphazardly threw some clothing into his duffel bag, adding in his watch and wallet, useless phone and keys. He didn’t think he needed much. At the last minute, he added the book of magick spells.  
  
He didn’t have that much that was really valuable to him. Just the things that were hard to replace and Arthur.  
  
He curled up on the bed, turning his face into the indent of Arthur’s head on the pillow, breathing him in and starting to cry.  
  
He felt like he should feel something, pain from the scrapes on his back, or the ache of Arthur leaving. He could hear the rotors of a helicopter overhead. All he could feel was guilt and numbness.  
  
He didn’t know how long he lay like that, curled in on himself, but Hunith soon called him down to eat something, putting a plate of scrambled eggs and beans on toast in front of him after he placed his bag at the front door.  
  
The Druids, he thought suddenly as he took a mouthful of toast, mind careening back to the spell book in his bag. The Druids would know how to help him, how to control his magic.  
  
There was no way that they weren’t meeting to discuss the volcano.  
  
Only- There was no way his parents would let him go out to the caves.  
  
Merlin couldn’t taste the food as he finished it, retreating to his room as his parents turned back to the news.  
  
It took only a twist of magic, more like a request, really, for them not to notice as Merlin stole down the stairs and out the front porch, not letting it drop until he was out of sight in the caves.  
  
His magic didn’t feel weak anymore. It was growing, roiling stronger and wilder in his chest, pushing at his boundaries.  
  
He stumbled through the passageways, ignoring the spattering of blood drops before turning down a hallway.  
  
His heart beat faster as he rushed through the corridors, recklessly choosing his path, praying it was the right way. He was watching his feet as he tripped over a rather obvious rock, falling headlong into the ceremonial cavern, right into the center of a circle of Druids dressed in long flowing robes.  
  
Their hoods were back and some of their robes were on skewed, as if they’d been thrown on in a hurry.  
  
They were dead serious though, Merlin could tell even as one of them helped him up. There was only about twenty of them, the majority of them sporting looks of fear and disapproval.  
  
“You have magic,” the man who’d helped him up exclaimed in Spanish, surprised.  
  
Merlin shivered as his green eyes bored into him. “Yes,” he stammered, “I mean sí, I do, I mean, lo tengo.”  
  
A cruel looking female Druid looked down her nose at him. “Go back to your parents young warlock,” she said in accented English. “We have no need of your assistance.”  
  
“But it was my fault,” Merlin garbled out, desperate and afraid. “I did it, I did the volcano, and the earthquake. And the heat and the power and the grass. It was me. I’m sorry,” he squeaked, hanging his head and hunching his shoulders.  
  
The Druids closed ranks around him.  
  
“Tell us,” one commanded him.  
  
He did. It was long and jumbled with a little crying added in, and in English to boot. Merlin tried to tell them everything, Arthur included, that he was hurt, leaving, without telling them everything- especially what they were doing to make the energy surges (their words) happen.  
  
After, they had a hurried conversation in a dialect of Spanish that Merlin couldn’t follow before they began to answer his questions. He mostly wanted to know about Arthur.  
  
"You are connected to him in the strongest possible way," the tall Druid told him in accented English. “He is your other half, the other side of your coin. Your conduit. Once there were rumours that conduits were soul mates, bound together with the very fabric of the universe, with the raw material that makes up magic itself." Merlin cringed away from him, clutching at his own arms, trying to hold himself together. The man's face softened. "But that is merely superstition," he said gently. "Magic simply takes the path of least resistance. With Arthur- with your conduit, it's easier for the power to flow. Whether this is because of your friendship or the positions of the stars at your birth, we will never know."  
  
"That is all well and good, Aglain," a tall, forbidding looking woman snapped. Her dark hair almost seemed part of her cloak, her accent making her words harsher. "But their bond must be broken. It is too dangerous to remain intact. Look at the destruction that this boy has already wrought on our mere island. Can you imagine him going back to England?"  
  
"I say we leave the responsibility of teaching and disciplining this boy to the English Druids in the first place," sniffed a crochety old woman from the back. "He is British after all, and therefore none of our responsibility."  
  
"Come, Grunhilda," a wrinkled old man chided. "He learned of his powers and skills here on our island, through our holy places and rituals. That is how he came into his power. Of course he is our responsibility."  
  
The one called Grunhilda lowered her eyes, lips pursed, clearly still angry.  
  
"I do not think we have to totally destroy the link between the boys," the old man said calmly. "Though they are young and strong, the magical backlash could easily kill them both, despite the distance between them."  
  
Merlin was trying to follow the conversation without crying, but it was a failing effort. "Please don't hurt Arthur," he whispered, his small voice echoing in the cave. "It was my fault, my magic that did the damage. Therefore I'm to blame."  
  
The old man looked at him kindly. "I am Anhora," he said. "And I promise you that neither of you will be harmed. There are many of us, both old and wise, and we shall find a way to diffuse your magic without causing harm."  
  
"That's an idea," Aglain said slowly. "Diffusion. If we could put up a block on the link instead of breaking it..." He trailed off as Anhora nodded at him.  
  
"That could work," he said solemnly. "Do you have a spell in mind?"  
  
Aglain cleared his throat, his face going pale. "I do," he murmured, rolling up his sleeves. "However, one way or another, closing a link will be painful for both parties involved."  
  
"How painful?" Merlin asked, morbidly curious.  
  
"You will feel as if a bit of your heart is being ripped away from you," Anhora said calmly. "It is not only physical, but mental, emotional pain. You will feel it in the very fiber of your being."  
  
Merlin gritted his teeth. "Will it hurt as much for Arthur too?"  
  
Aglain shook his head. "He has no magic to draw from, therefore there will only be discomfort for him."  
  
The Druids were watching him carefully, but Merlin nodded. "Do it," he croaked. "Make me safe, please?"  
  
Aglain walked over to place gentle hands on Merlin's shoulders. "Take a deep breath, young Merlin," he said before enchanting a spell. Merlin tensed his shoulders.  
  
And there it was, the feeling he’d been waiting for. It choked him in his throat, arrested his breathing. He coughed, mouth dry, gasping, his lungs pleading. The dull ache settled in his chest, took up residence behind the hole forming in his heart.  
Breathe in. Breathe out.  
  
The air moved soundlessly between his lips. It did nothing to ease the pain, the clench in his gut.  
  
The pain in his chest curled in on itself, twisting harder, pinching, burrowing.  
  
Breathe, Merlin. Just breathe.  
  
\---  
  
Arthur woke to whiteness, and pain. He didn’t know where he was.  
  
He remembered his parents stuffing him into the car. And then stuffing him onto a stretcher for the helicopter.  
  
He remembered passing out when someone bumped his arm.  
  
He remembered rotors turning above him, blinking as the scenery around him changed, world going fuzzy with whatever they put into the needle in his arm.  
  
He remembered Merlin, carrying him across the sand. He missed Merlin. Painfully.  
  
He blacked out again.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin swallowed hard as he lingered on the porch. The mountain in the distance was silent, well-behaved.  
  
They’d finally caught a ferry out around five and then had spent three nights in a shitty hotel in Las Palmas before they were allowed to go back to collect their stuff.  
  
The majority of it was back in boxes. Merlin’s magic- though weaker than before- still had enough strength to make the work easier on him when his mother wasn’t looking.  
  
Merlin sighed, watching staff haul boxes in and out of the Pendragon house. He wondered what they would do with the ledger, with the pair of shorts Merlin had left under Arthur’s bed, the hoodie that Arthur had stolen from him.  
  
Not able to watch, he went back inside.  
  
\---  
  
Arthur had a lot of well-wishers at the hospital, but all he wanted was to go home.  
  
Unfortunately, medics were very serious about head wounds, leaving Arthur frustrated and stuck in the hospital for a couple more days. The cast on his arm itched and the skin above his forehead prickled where it had been shaved to place careful stitches.  
  
“What happened?” his parents had wanted to know. “Why were you in the caves?”  
  
Arthur didn’t exactly know the answers, and even if he did, he wouldn’t tell his parents. So he said nothing.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin stared at his computer screen, mouse hovering above the search button next to the blinking name- Arthur Pendragon.  
  
Arthur hadn’t contacted him. He hadn’t talked to Arthur in more than a month.  
  
It would be weird to just friend him on facebook, wouldn’t it? Assuming Merlin could find him.  
  
Merlin sighed and closed the browser, reaching over to power down his computer. If Arthur didn’t want him in his life then Merlin wouldn’t intrude.  
  
The clawing, aching feeling in his chest wasn’t satisfied with this decision.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin had never given him an email address. Or a phone number. They hadn’t even friended each other on facebook, what with the island and their houses being so far removed from technology and the modern world.  
  
Arthur had wanted that. He had wanted to change his facebook status and to text Merlin long into the night, especially if he couldn’t be curled into Merlin’s side.  
  
But now...  
  
To be honest, Arthur wasn’t sure about now. Merlin was a visceral ache in his side, in his arm.  
  
He had stitches just above his hairline to prove what Merlin was.  
  
When he had been in the hospital, he had wanted to do everything he could to get to Merlin, to see him again.  
  
Now he was afraid.  
  
Merlin had been a cold beauty, eyes shining gold and angry, face cruel and twisted as he had reached for Arthur.  
  
Uther could have easily found the Emryses. Balinor was a professor, probably with a profile and email address online somewhere.  
  
But he had woken up with Uther ashen and Igraine pale, hovering over his bedside, praying that he hadn’t died.  
  
So Arthur did nothing.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin went on to ace his A levels that year, because of course he did. What else did he have to worry about other than his studies?  
  
Hunith understood his depression, the need to sit in his room alone sometimes, (sort of) but both she and Balinor insisted on Merlin doing as well as he could to finish out the year.  
  
No one really understood why Merlin chose to read History when he was finally accepted at University, but he would just shrug and mumble something about secret passageways and the legends from an island he went to one summer.  
  
He met a nice boy that lived across the hall from him in university named Gwaine. Gwaine had a quick smile and a nice laugh. He was easy going and cheerful, with gorgeous hair.  
  
He made Merlin happy. Until he didn't.  
  
\--  
  
Arthur was a smash hit in university. Because he was friendly and talkative, he had plenty of friends and many offers from both sides for comforting him in bed.  
  
To his shame, he ended up sleeping with some of his friends with no intention of having a relationship.  
  
He tried, he honestly did, but the majority of his partnerships ended up with him cringing out apologies.  
  
As outgoing as he was, Arthur had problems trusting people.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin had sought out the British Druids as soon as he had come home, led on only by a scribbled name on a scrap of paper.  
  
The ones near his hometown were helpful, a little, but he didn’t meet someone that truly answered his questions until he met Gauis, who was coincidentally also a professor at Merlin’s university.  
  
By that time, Merlin had ceased from doing accidental magic, but he needed some guidance in order to actually use his magic on purpose.  
  
Gauis gave him some spellbooks and compendiums and, bless him, theory of magic books.  
  
Between studying History and Magick, Merlin had his hands full in university.  
  
\---  
  
Somewhere, some cosmic being was laughing at Arthur. His date had taken him to a magic show, clearly wanting to impress him.  
  
Arthur was not impressed.  
  
In fact, Arthur was on his way to getting rat arsed drunk remembering how Merlin’s magic had felt along his skin and how Merlin had made objects float.  
  
After, he drank way too many whiskies and the night ended with his head in the toilet instead of in his date’s bed.  
  
Arthur didn’t call for another date.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin was 21, an exhausted university student waiting in line for his morning jolt of caffeine, when someone jostled him from behind.  
  
“Watch it,” he mumbled glancing up, irritated. The bloke behind him was too busy playing with his phone to notice.  
  
Merlin’s gaze wandered over to the window outside the little cafe, flicking his gaze over the people walking past. Mother with a young girl tightly clutching her hand. Uni mates, marked by their matching coffee takeaway cups and scarves against the biting wind. A man in a peacoat hiding as best as he could behind his collar turned up against the cold, only showing blond hair, aristocratic nose, and a jawline that could cut glass-  
  
Merlin’s world shattered. It couldn’t be- It wasn’t-  
  
He rushed out of the cafe, abandoning his place in line, barely noticing that he’d bumped into the boy behind him.  
  
The man and his peacoat was lost in the crowd of people coming up from the Tube entrance.  
  
Merlin stood on his tiptoes, breathing hard, trying to see, twisting this way and that, but finally had to admit defeat, taking deep breaths and letting the adrenaline cool in his veins.  
  
“It wasn’t,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his hand over his face. “The nose was wrong. It couldn’t have been him.”  
  
The man’s face had been leaner, too. Something about the way he had walked seemed different.  
  
And most of all, there was no tug from his chest, no swelling of warmth and gratification.  
  
That doesn’t mean anything, Merlin told himself. The link had been broken- sealed, disengaged. Whatever.  
  
Clearly it had only been Merlin’s overactive imagination.  
  
With shaking hands, he reached into his pocket to pull out his mobile and thumbed out a text.  
  
 _Gwen can I come over?_  
  
She wasn’t in a lecture (he had her schedule memorized), so it wasn’t long before she replied.  
  
 _I thought you had a tutorial in twenty minutes?  
  
I’m skipping. Please?  
  
Of course Merlin. What’s wrong?  
  
I’ll be there in ten._  
  
\---  
  
Arthur was on the verge of being successful. He was majoring in Finances and had been interning at Uther’s company for the last two summer breaks. He could run an excel spreadsheet in his sleep, in fact.  
  
Luckily, Uther recognized this. They’d had many chats over brandy about the future of the company and where Arthur could see it going.  
  
(It was a test, of course it was. Uther wanted him to succeed and follow in his footsteps but he also wanted what was best for the company.)  
  
His parents were happy, he was happy, everything was going perfectly.  
  
And then Morgana walked into his life.  
  
Apparently he had a half sister. Apparently he had an illegitimate half sister.  
  
Apparently Uther had had an affair with the wife of his business partner at the time (whom he later broke all ties to), never telling Igraine and never acknowledging the patronage of his own daughter.  
  
Arthur had known that his mother had a disease that made it hard for her to conceive, that she’d been going through fertility treatments and rounds of in-vitro fertilization.  
  
He knew that his birth was nothing short of a miracle.  
  
What he didn’t know was that Uther had grown tired of sex as an obligation, only a means to an end, and had turned to someone else.  
  
That he’d fathered a daughter and had covered it up, never even telling Igraine about the affair.  
  
Morgana was actually wonderful; Arthur couldn’t help but love her immediately.  
  
Igraine, however, thought very differently and within days had moved out, and in weeks, Uther had found himself faced with divorce papers.  
  
It tore a hole in Arthur’s chest, not exactly matching the previous one, but reminding him all the same.  
  
Luckily for him, he had a big sister to go out for coffee with and to advise him on his love life.  
  
\---  
  
Gwen had rubbed Merlin’s back for two hours, keeping a line of tissues steady as Merlin finally told her the whole sordid tale.  
  
It was like a hairball: it hurt to hack it up, and then it just lay there between them, glistening and a little bit gross. Merlin felt better afterwards though.  
  
“Merlin, you really need to let go,” Gwen murmured in his ear. She was missing a tutorial for this, Merlin knew. “It’s been three years now, love. Shhh,” she soothed him as he began to cry again.  
  
“I just keep expecting that I’ll see him walk around the corner,” he finally managed hoarsely. “And it’s stupid and I know it’s stupid because he lives in London anyway so why would he be in Birmingham?” He took a shaky breath. “I just want to see him walk around that corner Gwen,” he whispered. “I want to see him and talk to him.”  
  
Gwen sighed and pulled him tight to her. She was warm and soft, comforting. He clung to her.  
  
“Merlin,” she said softly. “It’s time to move on. You’ll be okay. I know you will.”  
  
Slowly, he nodded his head and leaned into the curtain of her hair.  
  
It was better, after he told Gwen.  
  
He wanted to move on. He really did. He tried.  
  
He called Arthur every name he could think of and then made up some new words to tell him just how much of an ass he was.  
  
He went to clubs and got drunk off his face with Gwen, not even worried about pulling, just about having fun.  
  
He was managing, slowly.  
  
And then he met Freya.  
  
\---  
  
Morgana was a disaster, Arthur decided. Why else would he be off his face, shirtless in a gay bar, with glitter streaked across his chest. If this was her idea of a good time, Arthur was starting to regret ever becoming friends with her.  
  
Still, he didn’t mind going out on the prowl. The last time he had been in a gay bar had been that fated night on his birthday in Las Palmas. But- nope. He wasn’t going to think about that or get all maudlin about something that had happened three years ago.  
  
A sinuous moving, black-haired boy sidled up to him, winking suggestively as they danced. He was a welcome distraction from Arthur’s thoughts, their hips grinding together as they moved, making Arthur grin.  
  
He was lost in the movement and the music, humming along, until he caught the other boy’s eyes. They were brown and kind of sweet, but wrong.  
  
Awkwardly smiling an apology, Arthur made his way out of the crowd, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He needed another drink.  
  
\---  
  
Freya made him smile.  
  
She was lovely and charming and beautiful and she made him smile.  
  
He took her out to nice dinners and they ate curry on her couch while watching bad films and sometimes he found himself staring into space and smiling inanely because of her.  
  
Gwen decided that they were destined to be together and started leaving printouts of ring websites in his bag.  
  
Merlin was amused by this, but he did take a second look at more than a few rings. Something was missing though, when Freya leaned her head against his shoulder, or when they shouted at each other over the popcorn bowl, grinning as they argued whether the crapness of the film was a literary statement or just plain crap.  
  
One day he found himself standing in front of a jeweler’s shop, just staring at the window, so he went in. The rings called to him, but not the delicate silver ones that would fit perfectly on Freya’s finger. He looked over the large gold ones, the ones crafted for a man, meant to highlight the strength in their fingers. He swallowed hard and walked out.  
  
That night Freya told him excitedly of the promotion she had been offered in Ireland.  
  
“Oh,” Merlin said, and felt it like a punch to the chest. “That sounds like a wonderful opportunity.”  
  
“I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland,” said Freya, dreamy-eyed.  
  
“Don’t let me stand between you and your dreams.” Merlin tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace.  
  
“Oh.” Freya deflated. “I didn’t mean for- Maybe you could work for the museum in Dublin?”  
  
Merlin smiled sadly and shook his head. “That’s alright Freya. You were always made for bigger and better things.”  
  
He kissed her, slowly, and it felt like a goodbye.  
  
\---  
  
Somehow, Morgana had convinced him to move to Birmingham with her. He got a flat near hers (close enough to get a call to help with the groceries, much to his chagrin), and a respectable job at a private consulting firm.  
  
As much as he’d whined about it, Arthur liked Birmingham. It was a fresh start and easily got him out of the weekly, awkward dinners at Uther’s house, and then his mum calling him up an hour later and demanding how it went.  
  
Morgana, of course, was better at making friends than him. Arthur had just found a footie group to play in on Saturdays when he walked into Morgana’s flat to find her laughing on the couch with a dark-skinned brunette with curly hair.  
  
“Arthur!” Morgana crowed. “This is Gwen and she will be joining us for our movie night.”  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Arthur said, taking her hand. Gwen blushed at him, and he tried not to let it go to his head. Gwen shot Morgana a side long look.  
  
“Oh don’t worry,” Morgana patted her on the arm. “I’m not setting you up. Arthur’s a poof. Usually these nights are full of me giving him boy advice.”  
  
Arthur frowned at her. “Thanks Morgana,” he said dryly. “Why don’t you just air all of my dirty laundry right now?”  
  
He set down a case of beers on the coffee table and retreated to the armchair, not really angry.  
  
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply-” Gwen said, flustered.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes and cut her off, “Just don’t believe everything the harpy says. No matter how much she swears, we have _never_ gotten mani-pedis together.”  
  
Morgana only smirked at him.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin was late, because of course he was.  
  
He’d lived up to the gay cliche and had spent almost half an hour staring at his closet deciding what to wear. Because what does one wear to a flat-warming party when you don’t even know the person who lives in the flat but are going as the plus one of your best friend?  
  
Apparently Gwen’s friend had lived there for awhile, just hadn’t had enough friends to have a flat warming party. Which was one of the reasons Merlin had been invited along.  
  
He finally had decided against a tie, but he still thought he looked respectable.  
  
There was a fine mist falling as Merlin ducked into the building, taking the elevator to the third floor.  
  
He was supposed to have met Gwen before going in, but he’d texted ahead so she wouldn’t have to wait for him.  
  
A very tall, very elegant dark haired woman answered the door, dressed in a green satin dress.  
  
“Hi,” Merlin stammered as she looked at him, confused. “I’m Gwen’s plus one for the night. Are you Morgana? I’m Merlin.”  
  
“Hello Merlin.” Morgana smiled wickedly as she let him through the door. “Gwen’s in the kitchen, which is to the right, but there are plenty of people in the living room that would love to meet you too.” She winked at him and sauntered away as Merlin chuckled and headed towards the kitchen.  
  
“Merlin!” Gwen chirped from where she was pouring wine. “I thought you’d never make it.”  
  
Merlin walked over to accept a wine glass from her and peck her on the cheek. “I wouldn’t abandon you,” he said, affronted. “Besides, you promised free wine.”  
  
Gwen rolled her eyes. “Have you met Morgana yet then? Isn’t she wonderful?”  
  
Merlin couldn’t help but grin at her earnest face. “I just had a word at the door, how should I know? Now I assume that you’ve met everyone already and are going to introduce me around, right?”  
  
Gwen linked her arm through his and tugged at him. “Let’s go, plus one of mine!”  
  
The small living room was filled with a surprisingly large amount of people. “It’s mostly friends from work and some of her brother’s footie friends,” Gwen muttered to him under his breath as they found a space in between people to settle into.  
  
Gwen snagged a couple of people as they walked past, names washing over him as he smiled and clutched at the stem of his wineglass.  
  
Elena was a tall, enthusiastic blonde with a great sense of humor.  
  
Lance was one of the footie friends and had been graced with bold Spanish looks, and prominent muscles. Merlin only had to glance over at Gwen and see her eyes sparkling to understand why Gwen was really introducing them.  
  
Cenred was a bit creepy looking, but apparently was the boyfriend of Morgause, who was Morgana’s step-sister, “but not related to Arthur, her half-brother,” Gwen told him. “It’s all very complicated and requires a diagram to understand.”  
  
Merlin nodded, pretended that he knew what she was talking about, and then stopped. “Did you say Arthur?” he asked, a strange note creeping into his voice.  
  
“Mhmm.” Gwen took a mouthful of wine. “He’s probably around here somewhere. Interesting story about how they met. Morgana didn’t even know she had a brother until her mother died and she went through her old diaries.”  
  
Merlin hummed and absentmindedly realized that he’d never mentioned Arthur’s name to Gwen. Not paying attention to his glass, he spilled wine on his shirt.  
  
Gwen tried to wipe it off with a random napkin, but Merlin shooed her away, dabbing at his shirt.  
  
He wasn’t paying attention when someone came up to Gwen and pulled her into a hug.  
  
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Gwen drawled. “Merlin, this is Arthur, Morgana’s half-brother.”  
  
Finally glancing up, Merlin automatically reached for the outstretched hand, meeting the mysterious Arthur’s eyes before his brain short circuited and his surprise made the lights snap out.  
  
\---  
  
Arthur hadn’t been expecting much from Morgana’s flat-warming party, especially since she had lived there for six months already.  
  
He’d even cajoled some of his footie friends along and it looked like Gwen had taken a shine to Lance.  
  
But he definitely hadn’t been expecting to see a familiar and long forgotten head of hair and pair of ears across the room standing next to Gwen.  
  
He wasn’t sure though; it had been a long time and the man’s head was down, playing with his shirt.  
  
Dumping his load of booze on the nearest end table, he hastened over to pull Gwen into a quick hug. “Introduce me to your friend,” he whispered in her ear and she laughed.  
  
He wasn’t very surprised when the lights went out as he met Merlin’s eyes.  
  
“Arthur,” he heard Merlin whisper just under the loud voices demanding where the lights had gone. He clasped tightly at Merlin’s hand and reeled him into his chest, a wineglass caught between them as he pulled Merlin into an embrace.  
  
“You’re taller than me,” he mumbled into Merlin’s ear, clutching at him tightly. “Up to your old tricks again, are you?”  
  
Merlin laughed wetly. “Sorry, I think- I think you caught me by surprise.” Someone clicked on a torch, and in the dim light Arthur cautiously let go of Merlin, letting him straighten back up and save the contents of his wineglass.  
  
Even in the low light, Arthur could see the spark in Merlin’s eyes, a fading of gold.  
  
“Do you think you could do something about-” he trailed off, gesturing to the rest of the room. Merlin nodded and the lights slowly came back on.  
  
Morgana popped up at Arthur’s elbow. “That was a bit of luck. I was going to send you to find the breaker box.”  
  
Arthur sighed and took a half step away from Merlin. “It wasn’t just the breaker Morgana, it was the whole flat.”  
  
She shrugged and turned away from him. “How are you enjoying the party, Merlin?” she asked sweetly. “I see you’ve met my old brother over here.”  
  
“Half,” Arthur insisted. “Half-brother. Barely even related.”  
  
Merlin smiled. “We’ve actually met before,” he said, tripping over his words, just as Gwen turned around.  
  
“What?!” Gwen and Morgana looked between the two of them with narrowed eyes.  
  
“How?” Morgana asked suspiciously.  
  
“Story for another time,” Arthur said smoothly, and gripped Merlin by the elbow. “But right now I need a drink and I’m going to get Merlin a much manlier drink than the Sangria that he is currently spilling over his shirt.”  
  
Merlin scowled at Arthur a little as he towed him away. “Prat,” he muttered underneath his breath, lips curling into a smile at the familiar insult.  
  
“The Sangria truly is awful,” Arthur said when he couldn’t think of anything else. “Anything else I could get you?”  
  
Merlin tilted his head to the side. “Tequila? For old times sake?”  
  
Arthur deposited him on a stool at the breakfast bar, going behind to mix up two very strong margaritas. He had a feeling that they were going to need it.  
  
“To old times,” Arthur toasted him gravely and Merlin nodded back, coughing a little after his sip.  
  
“Are you trying to get me plastered? You should remember that I’m a lightweight,” Merlin teased, his eyes crinkling at the sides.  
  
“Liquid courage,” Arthur said off-handedly. Merlin nodded.  
  
“I think my eyes might have bulged out of my head when I saw you,” Merlin admitted.  
  
Arthur laughed. “Well you did a number on the lights.”  
  
“You did a number on my head.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “God, Arthur. It’s so good to see you. It’s been- what? Five years now?”  
  
“Something like that,” Arthur grimaced and took a healthy gulp of his drink. “It’s been a long time since La Sirenita.”  
  
Merlin rubbed at his face. “And you have a sister now?”  
  
Arthur snorted. “She showed up with a DNA test and her mother’s diary, wanting half of my inheritance. Or a family.” He shrugged. “She got both, Mum and Dad separated, I’ve practically got a live in sister who nags me about cleaning my flat and being social.” He smiled crookedly. “She’s the best though.”  
  
“I can see that,” Merlin grinned. Arthur’s heart did something funny in his chest.  
  
“Well.” Arthur looked at his watch. “I think Morgana is going to start us doing party games soon, but do you want to meet me for coffee sometime this week? I found this great little place down the road and I really do want to catch up without Morgana and Gwen eying at us like they’re not trying to eavesdrop.” He turned to raise his eyebrow towards the entrance to the living room, where Morgana and Gwen were chatting nonchalantly and sipping at their wine.  
  
Merlin laughed. “Just give me your cell phone.” He quickly programmed in his number and sent himself a text.  
  
“Great,” Merlin’s eyes did the crinkly thing again, “now I finally have your number.”  
  
Arthur tried to smile sheepishly and not painfully, but clutched at his phone, finally having the contact details that they’d never bothered to exchange.  
  
Morgana blessedly interrupted their awkwardness by announcing party games in an extremely perky voice.  
  
The games were informative and even somewhat enjoyable, even if Merlin went to sit by Gwen on the opposite side of the room.  
  
Merlin had studied History in uni and was now a junior curator at Aston Hall. His favorite color was blue and when he was younger he had a puppy named Bells.  
  
Arthur felt a little pretentious admitting that he had studied Finance, but it was a good career! He might have gone for the family business if he wanted, and he hadn’t. That should put some points in his favor.  
  
The night went too fast and soon Merlin was begging off due to an early morning. Arthur couldn’t help but walk him to the door.  
  
“It was good to see you again,” he said inanely, ignoring the voice in his head telling him not to let Merlin go. “I mean, really. Really good.”  
  
“You too.” Merlin smiled. “Make sure you text me about coffee, okay?”  
  
“I will,” Arthur promised, pressing his lips together, deliberating. “I’ve missed you,” he blurted out.  
  
Merlin finished shrugging on his jacket and pulled him abruptly into a tight hug. “Me too,” he said in a tight voice. “I didn’t even know if you’d-”  
  
“I didn’t,” Arthur cut him off, not knowing what he was denying, just curling fists into Merlin’s jacket.  
  
Merlin sighed and let go. “Coffee,” he said firmly and disappeared down the corridor.  
  
Arthur reluctantly closed the door, turning around to find Morgana frighteningly close to him.  
  
“Tell me everything,” she demanded.  
  
“Me too!” Gwen popped up behind her. “I claim best friend rights. Spill all. Unless you met him on an island in Spain and I know the entire story?” she trailed off and must have found what she wanted in Arthur’s face.  
  
“Oi, you!” she smacked him on the arm. “You really did a number on him, you prick!’  
  
“Ow,” Arthur muttered, rubbing at his elbow. “I need another drink.”  
  
“I’ll get it out of you eventually,” Morgana said with narrowed eyes, Gwen tugging her away to probably spill the whole story.  
  
Arthur shook his head and headed back to the makeshift bar, pouring himself a very tall whiskey.  
  
\---  
  
Merlin was itching to text  Arthur the moment he left the building, but he held himself back. Unfortunately his feet hadn’t gotten the message to cool it, because he was somehow skipping to the bus.  
  
“Calm down Emrys,” he muttered under his breath. “Coffee is coffee is coffee. Just a drink. Nothing more.”  
  
He spent the entire way home calming his heart, almost missing his stop.  
  
Arthur texted him the next morning, inquiring if he had any hangover cures. Merlin recommended a cold shower and a good dose of manning the fuck up.  
  
Arthur sent back a picture of him giving the mirror the two finger salute, bleary-eyed and messy-haired in the background.  
  
 _Just don’t drink so much next time_ Merlin sent back.  
  
 _Are you busy this afternoon for coffee to help my hangover?_ came the reply.  
  
Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. _That was fast.  
  
Don’t tell me that you don’t want to catch up as much as I do._  
  
 _Okay I won’t :)_ Merlin thumbed out before shoving his phone in his pocket and walking into work.  
  
At lunchtime he checked again. Arthur had left him an address of a coffee shop and a time: 4:00 pm.  
  
He found it hard to concentrate after that.  
  
Due to the bus, Merlin was accidentally ten minutes early. The cafe was well lit and airy, with plenty of places to sit and chat, armchairs and tables alike. It wasn’t too far from Morgana’s flat and Merlin could easily see her having coffee dates with Gwen here.  
  
Merlin ordered himself a frilly coffee with too much sugar in it. He felt like he was going to need it: his palms were clammy and his knees shaky.  
  
He was sitting at a high top table for only a few minutes before Arthur came in, spotting Merlin almost immediately and coming over.  
  
“Hey,” he said breathlessly, sliding into the chair opposite of Merlin. “Sorry, a client ran over.”  
  
“You weren’t late,” Merlin shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “I just needed some caffeine.”  
  
Arthur looked disappointed that Merlin already had a drink. “I’ll just go get myself something. You don’t want anything else, do you?”  
  
Merlin laughed. “I’m fine, Arthur. Go get your coffee.”  
  
It looked like Arthur ordered the simplest thing on the menu, because he was back before Merlin could take two sips, leaving them in a slightly awkward silence.  
  
“How was your day?” Merlin asked, immediately feeling foolish.  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Okay. Taking some paracetamol after I woke up made it better.”  
  
Merlin tisked at him. “You shouldn’t have drunk so much on a weeknight.”  
  
Arthur smiled ruefully. “I know. You um. You kind of did a number on my head. And you seem to be taking this much better than I am right now.”  
  
Merlin took a deep breath. “You haven’t seen the inside of my head.”  
  
Arthur laughed along with him. “True.” Arthur took a sip. “So tell me about it?  
  
Merlin swallowed and looked down at his coffee cup, the mood suddenly changing. "I've- well." He paused. "You don't know how much I've made you smaller in my head. Smaller, and more of a bastard, and less significant to me. That's kind of what it took to get over you. I pegged you as a plonker that wanted a summer shag and nothing more, and that's all you ever were." He shrugged helplessly. "And then you show up in my life again, and you're nice and funny and smart and warm and quite the opposite of a bastard, and I have no idea how I ever fit you into those boxes." He chewed at his lip and took a shaky breath. "I've changed a lot since that summer, I guess, is what I wanted to say."  
  
Arthur nodded gently. "I've changed a lot too. But- I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt you that summer. I know I was a real git back then." Arthur ran his hands over his face. "I was still figuring things out," he confessed. "And I just never meant to ruin your life." He peeked at Merlin from between his fingers.  
  
"Arthur, no," Merlin said gently, pulling down Arthur's hands from his face and holding them in between his. "Despite the whole leaving thing at the end, meeting you was honestly the best thing that ever happened to me. You have to believe that." Merlin smiled crookedly at him. "You changed my life, definitely, but you did not ruin it," he said firmly.  
  
Arthur grinned at him in relief. "You too," he said. "I mean, that summer, it changed me. Shaped me to who I am today. And I wouldn't exchange it for the world."  
  
"We were pretty good together, weren't we?" Merlin asked wistfully, toying with a spoon.  
  
Arthur scoffed. "We were fucking amazing together and you bloody well know it Merlin Emrys, crazy things aside."  
  
Merlin smirked. "Crazy things indeed. That's another thing that changed. After you left, I found the Druid group and asked them for help. Turns out they thought I was part of an ancient prophecy and you were my conduit, basically something that enhanced my magic. But my magic wasn’t activated in me until I entered their holy places and their rituals. Basically, when we were touching and,” he blushed, “ _doing_ things, you opened a pathway to my magic.”  
  
Arthur looked impressed. “Las Druidas told you all of that?”  
  
Merlin frowned and shook his head. “When we went home after summer hols I managed to find a group here in England that would take me under their wing in return for some energy during their holy days and rituals. I met my tutor, Gauis, at uni and he’s basically taught me everything he knows. The Druids in Spain only blocked off our magical link and sent me home with a slap on the wrist. Gauis was the one who taught me about the festivals and the importance of the moon and nature systems along with the spells and chants. He also told me that the volcano was probably caused by a combination between the new moon, the altar and the spells placed around it, the time of day, my anger and well, you.” He smiled crookedly. “It was a rather drawn out explanation.”  
  
Arthur whistled, impressed. "I have no idea what half of that means but it sounds amazing."  
  
Merlin nodded. “It’s pretty cool. Did you remember feeling kind of sick the first time we went into the caves?”  
  
“Yes, definitely.”  
  
“That was the magic trying to get to me through you,” Merlin said simply. “After, the magic was already inside of me, so you didn’t feel sick.”  
  
Arthur cocked his head to the side. “And how is your magic now?”  
  
Merlin shrugged. "The power outage at Morgana's party was the first bit of accidental magic I've done in years."  
  
Arthur chuckled lowly. "Good to know I still have that effect on you," he winked. Merlin tried to hide his blush and with a flick of his fingers caused Arthur's mug to rise half an inch in the air.  
  
"Oh," Arthur said, eyes wide and looking like he'd been punched in the stomach, breathless. "Your eyes are- bloody hell, they're still that golden color."  
  
"Never changed.” Merlin’s lips twisted in amusement.  
  
Arthur smiled fondly.  
  
Draining the last of his coffee, Merlin glanced out the window. "Ooh, it looks like it's finally going to rain." He smiled regretfully. "I'd better run for the bus before I get soaked."  
  
"Sure." Arthur drained his cup and stood up. After returning their mugs, they exited the shop and then were at a loss for what to do.  
  
Shifting on his feet, Merlin tried to offer Arthur his hand. "It really was great meeting up with you Arthur," he said softly.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled a surprised Merlin into a tight hug. "Yes, it was," he said gruffly in Merlin's ear.  
  
It seemed as if the sky was waiting for a cue, and opened up at that moment, soaking them faster than Merlin thought possible.  
  
"No," he said after they had pulled back, looking mournfully at his jeans and shirt.  
  
Arthur's hair was already plastered to his forehead and he was blinking the rain off of his eyelashes.  
  
"Mine isn't too far from here, if you want?"  
  
Merlin nodded and Arthur grabbed his hand, yanking him down the road at a half run.  
  
Giggling helplessly, Merlin tried to dodge puddles and passersby and not five minutes later they were huddled under an awning while Arthur fiddled with his keys and then let them inside.  
  
Arthur's flat was large and warm after the soaking rain, tasteful, but probably decorated by Morgana.  
  
"It is," Arthur admitted before leading him into the master bedroom and attached bathroom to find them towels. "You can use the shower if you like, plenty of hot water."  
  
Both of them had gotten soaked to the skin in just the five minute walk/run to Arthur's.  
  
Merlin should have said no, because this was where Arthur lived and dressed and walked around naked and showered, but his teeth were chattering and his jeans were getting very uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah okay, that would be great, thanks," Merlin said. Arthur nodded and started to jiggle with the fixtures and complicated looking handles.  
  
"It's kind of finicky sometimes," he explained. "Let me just find you some clothes to wear."  
  
Arthur disappeared into what appeared to be a walk-in closet and Merlin tried to hover awkwardly without dripping on anything important.  
  
The sight of Arthur's ipod laying half-hidden under his pillow sparked his interest though. It was the newest model, but still well battered and used. Merlin quickly thumbed in Arthur's password (his birthday the predictable sod), and studied the screen.  
  
It appeared to have been playing a playlist called Sleep. There was a muffled bang and a curse from the closet, so Merlin was distracted when he pressed the play button.  
  
Merlin recognized the first pinging notes immediately. The ipod dropped back onto Arthur's pillow from numb fingers.  
  
Wet shirt suddenly unbearable against his skin, Merlin peeled it off and dropped it in a squelchy heap on the floor, uncaring of the mess as he walked into the closet.  
  
"I found you a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, so don't be picky," Arthur said, handing him a stack of clothing. He had removed his button down and placed it over some sort of rack in the corner to dry. His undershirt clung to him like second skin, highlighting each breath that he took- especially when they sped up when he recognized the song that was swelling from Arthur's room.  
  
"Oh," he said softly, looking vulnerable and a little bit defeated.  
  
He swallowed hard as Merlin stalked forward, crowding him against the nearest wall.  
  
"I didn't think you would," Arthur cut off breathlessly, "I didn't know if you remembered."  
  
Framing Arthur's face with his palms, Merlin leaned in to rest their foreheads together. "Goddamn you Arthur, _how could I ever forget_ _?_ "

 

  


  


  
  
Merlin kissed him, lipping gently at Arthur's top lip, and then the bottom, before sliding his tongue into his mouth to see if it still tasted the same, if Arthur still felt the same under his fingers.  
  
The groan coming out of Arthur was low and yearning, hands coming around to clasp Merlin at the small of his back, soothing circles at the moisture there, trailing fingernails lightly up his ribs.  
  
Merlin made a noise like a whimper into Arthur's mouth before breaking away just long enough to pull Arthur's undershirt up and over his head.  
  
Arthur had more to him, had gained in the chest and abs and arms. Muscles clenched and bunched under Merlin's hands, feeling so different, but the taste and scent of Arthur was the same, as well as the assurance of being safe in his arms.  
  
Panting, Merlin leaned back just far enough to catch Arthur's gaze.  
  
"You realize that there is a perfectly good bed next door and an even perfectly hot shower for us?"  
  
Arthur smiled, and it was silly, a little manic. "Us," he breathed, and tugged Merlin into the next room, and into the bathroom, thumbing at buttons and yanking at zippers, wriggling them both out of wet trousers and denim and pants, before bundling both of them under the hot stream of the shower, Merlin pressing kiss after kiss of promises into Arthur's skin.  
  
 _Give a little time to me or burn this out,  
We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,  
All I want is the taste that your lips allow,  
My, my, my, my, oh give me love,  
My, my, my, my, oh give me love,_  
  
  



End file.
